There's Moonlight in the Sewers
by Winged Lady Colette
Summary: Taylor is being hunted. And the only things that stand between her and her hunters are four giant turtles and their two human friends. And a past meeting between them might not just be coincidence. Something from long ago is coming back and it draws both human and turtle together in a very peculiar way. Possible torture. Leo/ofc
1. The meet up

**Author's Note: I am so sorry. I've been totally obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for forever. But I kind of lost my gusto in it for a few years and just got back into it. I've been wanting to do something with this since I got back into it, but wasn't able to think of something to do, and then the idea just sort of came to me. This is a mixture of 2003 and 2012 versions of the television shows. There will be a little bit of things from both because I just can't make up my mind which one I love more, so yeah. XD This is my first time writing a TMNT fanfic to let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC and the story line.**

**Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a bit of language.**

**Words Count: 6,616**

"I'll just take a coke, darling, and that will be all," the old man says, handing me the menu back. "I'm more interested in a place to sit and wait, than to eat."

I nod, scribbling down his order before turning away and walking over to the counter and giving it to Sam, who was flying back and forth, helping all the patrons sitting at it. I ignore the looks sent my way. Some are kind enough to try and be discreet but other just blatantly stare at me as I walk around the diner. Sam gives me an exasperated look before picking up the black coffee pot and walking over to a man reading a newspaper and refills his drink. He mumbles his thanks without looking up from today's headline, even thought it's ten-thirty at night.

I can't imagine he'll get much from that.

Finally, Sam makes her way over to the soda machine and makes me a coke that I quickly give to the old man before returning to where she's waiting for me. Her short brown hair is pulled back into a tiny pony tail and a bunch of hairpins hold back the rest of the stubborn strands. Not like mine, pulled back into a messy bun on top of my head. She clicks her long, manicured finger nails on the countertop when I return.

"Got any plans tonight?" I ask, leaning on the counter in front of her, laying my elbows and forearms onto the smooth surface. "I don't really feel like going home after work today."

Sam smiles sadly. "Sorry, I got to get home early tonight. I got a class at eight tomorrow and I still have to finish a paper before then. I don't even think I'm going to get any sleep. I'd love to tool around with you, but not tonight. I'm free tomorrow, though."

I raspberry, nodding in understanding. Rubbing my temples a bit, a small pulsing headache forming right behind my forehead. "Okay. Tomorrow, then."

She smiles, holding out her hand, pinky out. "It's a promise."

I take it and we shake once on it. I pull away from the counter and walk around the diner again, checking on my other customers. About a half hour later, only two customers remain. The old man with the coke and another man at the bar reading a book.

"Okay," my manager, Keith, peaks his head out from the kitchen says, looking between Sam and I. "Kitchen's closing. Who's going to stay until closing?"

"I am," I answer right away, looking over at Sam, her mouth hanging open slightly. "It's my turn anyway. Go home." She smiles back at me and nods. She mouths her thanks and pulls her apron off, putting it under the counter before walking in back to get her things. Keith nods, making a note on the notepad that seems surgically attached to his hand, before disappearing back into the kitchen to finish cleaning. I slip behind the counter and clean up a bit, making my way over to the man reading the book.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" I ask.

He looks up at me for a split second, then back to his book. "No, I'm-" he starts but then stops and does a double take. "White..." he mumbles, blinking, then quickly clears his throat and looks down, flushing a bit in embarrassment. "No, nothing. Sorry. I should probably get going." And, with his head bowed, the man sipped the last of his coffee and laid down some money and scurried to the door.

"Sir," I call out to him. "You paid a twenty for a two dollar coffee! Don't you want your change?"

"Keep it!" He calls back, the door slamming behind him. I open my mouth, wondering if I should chase him down, but I can't just leave the front of the store unmanned. And that is about an eighteen dollar tip. For coffee! Damn, I should use my looks for good.

I pick up the money and the mug and walk over to the cash register, pulling out my tip before closing it again and placing the cup in the kitchen to be washed and stuffing the money into my pocket. I can hear Sam in the way back talking with Keith. I can't hear what they're saying and I don't draw close enough to try and find out. I've always wondered if perhaps they were hooking up after hours. I mean, Sam's twenty-two and Keith has got to be later twenties or at the most early thirties, but they seem to really like each other. Always sharing forbidden looks when they don't think I'd notice.

When I get back out front, the older man is chuckling. "You'd think he's never seen an albino before," the old man says between his laughs. "And not just that, but a man's pride will make him due strange things."

I feel the corner of my lips curve up a bit. "You'd think," I murmur. I grab a rag and walk over to clean the book customer's spot. "But I'm not complaining," I mumble which earns me another hearty chuckle. Sam comes out a moment later, saying her goodbye, reminding me about tomorrow, before heading out. I finish up cleaning when Keith sticks his head back out through the kitchen door.

"Taylor, I'm going out back to smoke, make sure to lock up when everyone leaves. Come get me if you need anything," he reminds me. I nod, waving him away. Even at nineteen, I've locked up many times and needn't be reminded every time.

Once Keith is gone, the old man turns to look at me, holding his probably lukewarm soda between two wrinkly hands. "Taylor? That's a pretty name," he says more to himself than to me. I hum in agreement.

"Yeah, it's both a boy and a girl name. And probably one of the most popular. But it's kind of you to say that."

The old man scoots his half full glass around the table a bit. "Sort of like my own, hm? Andrew." He says, then points himself. "That's my name."

"Nice to meet you, Andrew," I say, turning to pick at a spot on the counter with my nail. Keith, the cleaning Nazi, would kill me if I attempted to leave without making this place look spick and span.

He smiles kindly, finally pulling himself to his feet and putting some change on the table. He pulls a cane out from under the table and walks to the door. "I'll see you around, dear," he says. "Good luck."

"Goodnight, Andrew," I say back, half listening as I try and clean a pesky spot. Rag in hand I make my way over to his table to clean it up. I pause when I spot a silver flash drive sitting in the center of the table. I pick it up and spin around, running to the door and opening it up, looking around in the darkness. "Andrew? Andrew? You forgot..." For an old man walking with a cane he's certainly fast.

I stuff the flash drive into my pocket, making a mental note to keep it with me until I see Andrew again and lock the door and turn the open sign off. Right as I'm half way to the back a loud crash makes me jump and turn around. A rock about the size of my fist rolls over to me, having busted one of the windows on the door right out, shattering it to a million tiny pieces all around the doorway.

"Son of a bitch," I mutter, walking to the door and peaking out into the blackness. My shoes crunch the glass even more, regardless of how careful I try to step. I can't really see much. Most of the other stores around us are closed. There is one, across the street that's still open, but it provides little light this far away. I unlock the door and step outside, looking around a little more closely. I groan and turn back around, walking over to the rock and picking it up. "Damn kids," I grumble before turning back toward the door and tossing the rock outside and walking around the back to see Keith smoking.

"What's wrong?" he asks when he sees me.

"Those damn kids threw a rock through the front door window, again," I tell him. He throws the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. He brushes past me, muttering curses under his breath.

* * *

><p>By the time I had given my statement to the police and changed out of my uniform into jeans and a tee-shirt, it was already one-thirty. Keith told me to go home, that he would finish the cleaning so I took the opportunity and I slipped away from the flashing red and blue lights and began to make my way home. I've lived in New York all my life, but even I hated myself a little bit when I spaced out in the middle of the night when I know I shouldn't have. Native or tourist, no matter what, New York will eat anyone and everyone alive.<p>

But I had walked this way hundreds of times and nothing bad had ever happened to me. The typical cliché. So when I rounded the corner to one of the narrower side streets that I take home and there is about a dozen guys all gathered around as if they were waiting for something, warning bells went off in my head. And when I walked around that corner and they all turned to look at me, I had a very bad idea of what they could be waiting for. But not a clue in the world as to why.

They all straighten up at the sight of me, one of them looks down at something in his hands that he had been fiddling around with and nods. "She's the one." And then they began advancing on me. I don't know what in the world I did, but there was no way I was going to stick around to find out. I spin around on my heel, glad I decided to wear my comfortable gym shoes today as opposed to the new boots, and run for it. For New York being so populated, I can't believe there is hardly any people out and about when someone is being chased through the city.

I duck into a back ally that immediately leads to a dead end. I look around, scanning the area to see a dumpster right under a ladder to my left. I quickly climb up the dumpster, unable to stop the involuntary gag and the watering of my eyes, before I blindly wave my arm around at the blurry ladder. I whack my knuckles off of it before grabbing hold and pulling myself up.

"Over here!" one of them calls, far too close for my comfort. "She's going for the roof."

I'm not a thrill seeker. I have no desire to go running around, putting my life in danger or making myself the center of attention any more than I usually am. Being very pale, even to the point of partial translucency, with snow white hair and eyebrows and even eyelashes and almost purple eyes, I attract a lot of attention. It makes it hard for someone like me to hide in a crowd or in this case, hide in darkness. My hair is like a snowy white beacon for whoever these guys are.

I reach the top and heave myself over, feeling a bit light headed from the exertion. I'm not as much in shape as I probably should be. And right now, I wish I was in better shape. I run across the roof, looking for another way down, or at least to another roof and spot two buildings close enough together to jump, it's hardly two feet. I wouldn't wish to risk any larger a gap, if I could help it. I make the jump and fast walk, holding a stitch in my side, weaving amongst the random things on the roof. The air conditioning units and all the other things I can't name that sit on almost every roof I've ever seen.

Daringly, I twist around to see one of the men now climbing onto the other roof, I've put a great deal of distance between us, but now I don't know where to go. I spin around, searching for another close roof, or perhaps a way down. I run over to one of the ledges, it's got the closest roof than the others, but a lot more than two feet. I step near the ledge and look down, feeling a bit of vertigo. I shake it off, not wanting to fall to my death and let out a bark of a laugh.

Down five stories, at street level, is a man and woman walking down an alley, talking.

"Hey!" I yell, waving my arms around. Both man and woman look around. "Up here! Look up!" I yell, twisting around a bit to see now five men are on the other roof, closing in quickly. "Help! Call the police! I'm being chased!" I could hear my voice being echoed off the builds, I just have to hope that they could understand me. It would be my luck that they would be foreigners who barely speak English and can't understand me, or think this all some kind of practical joke.

"You need help?" The man yelled up, stepping back from the building a bit, probably to get a better look up at me.

"Yes!" I yell. "Help!"

"Hang on!" the man and woman both shout. I hear footsteps rapidly approach from behind me.

I spin around to see one of the men almost on top of me. I jump right, wishing, in vain, that it would be one of those times when the bad guy goes flying off over the edge and that's one less to deal with, but no such luck. He catches himself and turns to face me.

"Come with me, girl," he says, holding out a hand as if he expected me to take it. He's got a deep scar across his right cheek.

I shake my head and back up, looking around again. Anything that I could use to get down and now I suddenly hate myself for going to the roofs to begin with. I look to my right, at the building. The length between these two buildings is a lot larger than two feet. It's probably almost my height, if not more. It's either stay here and get taken by this guy and his friends for god knows what reason and what they'll do to me, or jump and hope I make it to the other side and not plummet to my death.

He catches my look at the building. "You won't make it," he says, eyes narrowing.

"I know, but I got to try," I say, then step back a few paces then run as fast and as hard as I could, not giving myself a moment to pause before I push off the roof and am floating in mid air. I half land on the building, half don't. The corner of the building hitting my gut makes me both winded and feel like I'm going to barf everywhere, and my racing heart isn't helping. I scramble, pulling myself entirely onto the roof and sit there a moment, shaking with both adrenaline and fear. I can't believe I did that. I could have died!

A human's fight or flight instinct is amazing. I've never been put into a situation like this before, and hope to never again, so I've never known. I mean, I always heard the stories, mom's being able to lift cars off their children, I just never thought that would be me. That had to be almost five feet, if it wasn't at least! I've never jumped that far before.

But now isn't the time to celebrate. I twist around a bit to see the man preparing to make his jump, his friends closing in quickly, picking up speed. They're going to jump too, and they aren't going to stop and debate. Who the hell are these guys? Surely they have the wrong person! Why go through all this trouble for someone? They could fall off one of these buildings and die!

This all feels like one of those horror movies where I'd be screaming at the heroine to stop being so stupid and start thinking clearly. Now that I'm in the damsel's shoes, I am actually a bit sympathetic. I'm making this up as I go. I have no idea how someone could plan ahead with all this madness!

I scramble to my feet, my arms and legs feel like jelly on sticks, as I force myself to run. I nearly trip and fall two or three times, but manage to push myself up and keep going. I jump down to a lower roof, about a story drop. Okay, I fell. I turned my head slightly to see how close those guys were and I went flying. Luckily, the roof was really close and I only fucked up my knee a bit. It burned to put weight on it, sort of like when I hit my funny bone on something, before the pain eased and I was running on it normally again.

But that gave the scarred man ample time to catch up to me. He reaches out and grazes my arm, his skin is cold. The night is slightly chilly, but all I can feel is heat of exertion and pain, everywhere. Throbbing pain with my heart beat. The second time he grabs at me, his hand wraps around my arm. Without thinking, I claw at his offending forearm with my nails, he jerks his hand back a moment later.

I turn forward right as another guy, who somehow slipped around and got in front of me, was about to wrap his arms around me, that I slipped on the gravel on the roof and accidently head-butt him in the gut. I didn't plan that at all and it left both of us a bit disoriented. But it did get me face to face with a wrench forgotten on the roof. A stroke of luck!

The scarred man grabs my arm, right as I grab the wrench, and pulls me to him. I swing the wrench, closing my eyes as it connected with the side of his head, dropping him immediately with a yelp of pain. It's at this point that I would like to say that I became super badass and kicked some creepo butt, but instead, in my haste to put as much distance between myself and my pursuers, I fell headlong off the side of the building. My entire life flashed before my eyes. Way too fast for me to recall most of it.

A loud scream ripped from my throat. It sounded strange, unlike me. Here I was, about to die, and all I could think about was how my scream didn't sound like me. Like I could have somehow rehearsed it or something. But the strange thought was cut short when I hit something hard, not as hard as I thought the concrete would be and not nearly as cold. In fact, it was warm. And it wrapped around me.

I look at what I landed on and made a noise of confusion. It certainly wasn't the concrete alley I was expecting. It was a chest. A broad, not human chest. We hit something. No, he's hanging onto something, pinning me between himself and the brick wall of the building. A single, strong arm around me. I look down at the green limb, not sure I understand what I'm seeing.

"Who...?" I gasp, looking up the strange hard, muscly body to the green face, without nose or ears. A - what I think is blue - bandana-mask across his eyes and a large turtle shell on his back. Two strange prongs sticking off of it. Big, light blue eyes stare down at me.

"Shh," it - he? - whispers, pressing as close as possible without hurting me, and looked up. I can just barely make out about a dozen heads poking out over the edge, looking for me. It seems this huge... whatever he is, is holding onto the bottom of a windowsill. We are obscured by both the darkness of the half moonlit night, and a large vent blowing out steaming hot air. I look around to see three other dark masses, hanging off the wall like growths.

He shifts his weight a bit, readjusting his grip on the windowsill with, dear lord, a three fingered hand.

I swallow thickly, decided my life meant more to me than my pride or fear. I wrap my arms around his neck and legs around his waist and... shell, which was a little weird. Or a lot weird. And held on tight.

"Sorry," I murmur, trying to get my arms comfortable around his neck with the top of his... shell sort of in the way. Once I'm settled, I put my face in his shoulder and whisper, "You can hold on to the ledge more securely now. Please and thank you."

He clears his throat before slowly unwrapping his arm from around me, ready to close it again if I suddenly slip. "Um, thanks."

"Yeah," I mumble, "just don't fall."

He grabs onto the bottom of the window with the other arm too and adjusts himself one more time to accommodate for our new and different position, before settling still. "Raph," he says, so quietly I almost couldn't hear him even being so close, "you and Mickey, try and divert their attention. Donnie, try and sneak around them and catch them off guard. I need to get her to safety, then I'll come to assist you."

"Of course Leo gets to help out the cutie," one of them says.

"Shut up, Mickey," Leo growls. "This is serious."

"Yeah, come on," says another, the one closest to us turns to look at us. "The sooner we get up there, the sooner we can figure out what is going on." He's also got a mask on. It looks to be... a dark pink? No, red. It's got to be red.

I look back and forth and watch as the guy with the red bandana and the one furthest away both start scaling the building, going sideways before disappearing around corners. After a long, drawn out moment of me squeezing the guy with the blue bandana's neck, to which he didn't complain to, just shifted a little, I heard what sounded like battle cries and the sound of fighting.

"Go Donnie," the guy holding me says and the last one moves, crawling up the building.

"Be careful, and hurry up, Leo," the final one says before crawling over the top onto the roof.

"Okay," the one with the blue mask - Leo - says, looking back down at me. "Hold on tight. I'm going to climb down."

My heart rate, which for some reason started to slow down, speeds up again and I cling to the giant turtle tightly. "Oh my god, please don't fall. I'm scared. Oh my god, I don't want to die."

"I'm not going to drop you, or fall," Leo says. A pause, then, "If something happens, I'll catch you, okay? Don't panic."

I nod jerkily, but hold on tighter nonetheless. Leo slowly makes his way down, each sudden movement pulls a little squeak of fear and a little jump. But Leo doesn't seem to loose patience, even listening to the sound of his friends fighting above us. In fact, he tries to get my mind off of it.

"What's your name?"

"T-Taylor..." I mumbles, tensing again. "Y-You're Leo?"

He nods, pausing to reach over to grab something to continue our decent. "I am. And do you know who was chasing you?" I shake my head no. "Any idea as to why?" I shake my head again. He hums. "We can talk more in a moment, okay? This is just a little drop, so hold on."

My eyes widen and I tense up even more. "Wait, what? What are you talking abou-" Leo lets go and the scream that wanted to rip from me gets caught in my throat when we hit the ground a moment later. I'm practically glued to him for a moment, trying to process the fact that we are now on the ground, before I practically melt to the floor, all my limbs ache from being so tense. I'm shaking again.

"Stay here, I'll be back. If more guys show up, scream, my brothers and I will come for you," Leo says. "For now, hide." And then he's gone, climbing up the building at lightning speed. I shakily climb to my feet and stagger over to the opposite wall, hitting it harder than I intended. That's going to bruise my shoulder later. And this night couldn't get much worse. I peak out of the alley looking left, then right, then left again to see no one, before I stumble out and head left, away from the sound of fighting but also away from home.

My entire body is throbbing in beat with my head. I feel dizzy and sick. I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off and pure fear and weariness has taken it's place. I'm not sure how long I was stumbling down the strangely deserted streets before a woman appeared. She had really long red hair. A very pretty color. It looked good on her.

"Oh my god," she says, running over to me. "I found you. Are you okay? Those men chasing you, they didn't hurt you, did they?"

I squint at her, wondering how she could have known that, but then I remember. "You're the woman. You were in that alley with that man."

She nods. "Yes. I'm April and that was Casey. He's gone to help our friends take care of your... pursuers," she says, crinkling up her nose a bit. She reaches out and takes my hand. "Come on, let's get you out of here. Let the guys do their thing."

I follow her, not sure I could pull away even if I wanted to. "The turtle guys? They're friends of yours?"

She looks over at me, a worried look on her face. "Um, yeah." She gives me a look. "There's a bench over here. Come on, you look like you need to sit down." She pulls me down the street a bit and then across it to the bench she was referring to in front of a bus stop. I practically fall onto the bench. The redhead lowers herself next to me slowly. "What's your name?"

"I don't know anymore," I mumble, staring wide-eyed across the street feeling like I'm going to puke everywhere. I take a few deep breaths before shaking the dizziness from my mind. "No, it's Taylor."

The girl, April, is quiet for a moment before, asking, "Are you okay?"

I look over at her, eyes wide. I don't know the words to explain how I was. I was shaken, afraid, nauseous, worried, tired, frightened and so much more all at once. Today was a really strange day. My head really hurts right now. I feel like I'm going to die. Everything hurts, my head is splitting, and I honestly want to cry, but can't muster the strength to. I wish I could fall asleep here without worrying about getting mugged, kidnapped or shot. But there is one thing I'm certain of: I'm definitely going to the gym and build up my strength.

I don't do anything else but work and sit at home all day. Perhaps this is the excuse I've been looking for to start doing things.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" April asks, tilting her head with a sympathetic look on her face.

I shrug my shoulders, drooping a little against the bench. "I don't know. It feels like this is some kind of bad dream, and the punch line is turtles." I shake my head, slumping more.

April laughs a bit. "Sorry, but this isn't a bad dream. Any idea what they could have wanted?"

I shake my head. "No clue. I'm no one. I work at a diner, for god's sake! My only shining feature is that I'm albino. That's it. I'm strange to look at."

"No way!" April says, turning toward me. "You don't look weird! You're beautiful!"

A laugh that lacked mirth, escapes me as I sit up a bit and turn toward her. "I'm not fishing for compliments. It's just a fact. There is nothing particular about me. Other than my looks." I look over at April and for a moment, wish I had beautiful red hair as rich and bright at her own. Even though her hair is simply pulled back into a pony tail at the back of her head, it just looks beautiful, lush and full. April is beautiful.

April is quiet for a moment, trying to arrange her thoughts. She glances over from where we came from. I follow her gaze but all I see is dark buildings. Well, darkness, but I'm sure there is building in there somewhere. I'm not even sure which of the hidden buildings I nearly fell from. No, I did fall. I was just caught by a man-turtle or turtle-man. I'm not sure which is which. A man dressed up in a _very _convincing turtle suit or a giant turtle that looked kind of like a man. I don't know.

I lean forward on the bench, elbows on knees and face in hands, rubbing my temples roughly. My head is splitting, now everywhere through my skull. I open my eyes right as two pairs of three toed, green feet landed in front of me. I jump, letting out a yelp and throwing myself back into the bench, hand over my heart. My eyes fly between the two giant turtles. They are different shades of green and different heights. One has an orange bandana and the other had purple one.

The orange one holds his hands up, grinning. "Sorry, sorry! Nice to meet you, I'm Mickey. And this is Donnie." He gestures toward the purple masked turtle. I settle in my seat a little more, hand still over my rapidly beating heart.

"Nice to meet you..." I look over at April, who's glaring at the two of them.

"You guys! Be a little more considerate, okay? She was just chased through the city not ten minutes ago, don't you think having a little bit of a lead foot here would have been nice?" April asks, shaking her head.

"Sorry, April," Donnie says, scratching the back of his neck before looking over at me. "You too, sorry about that. Sometimes we forget. I hope we didn't scare you, miss...?"

"Rowan. Taylor Rowan," I say, finally lowering my hand from my chest, swallowing thickly. They seemed pleasant and friendly enough. "Where is the others? Wasn't there four of you guys?"

The orange one - Mickey - nods briskly. "Yes, ma'am! Raph and Leo were just checking out the area to make sure there is no one else around. They should be making their way over here soon." He beams at me.

"Where's Casey?" April asks.

"He's with Leo and Raph," Mickey says, folding his arms behind his head and leaning on his right hip.

"So, everything is okay now?" April asks, looking between the two. "Those guys ran off?"

"After a major butt whooping!" Mickey says, bouncing up and down.

Donnie gives him a look before shaking his head and looking over at April and I. "Yeah, they were trained pretty well. Better then the Purple Dragons but not quite like the Foot Clan." He rubs his chin in thought. "There was about a dozen of them. It's hard to believe that they would put that much effort into just one person." He narrows his eyes.

"Did you find anything out?" April asks. "Any idea what they could want?"

Donnie sighs. "Unfortunately no. They weren't too interested in talking."

"Figures," April mumbles, glaring at the ground. "We'll just have to be more careful." She nods, more to herself than to us.

"So it's safe for now?" I murmur, standing up slowly. I reach up to feel my hair and it's hardly holding on anymore. I let my hair down, pulling the hair bow from my thick locks, and retying it. "I think... yeah, I think I'm going to go home now."

"What?" April and Mickey say, April jumping to her feet.

"I don't think so," Donnie says. "You aren't safe! They could still be out there somewhere."

I raise an eyebrow looking between the three of them. "Thanks guys, but it's really not your problem. I'll just... head home for tonight and then go stay with some friends or something until whatever this is blows over." Just as the words started leaving my mouth, all three of them were shaking their heads.

"What if they come back for you, Taylor?" Mickey asks, blue eyes wide. "You could use some super awesome ninja butt kickers at your back!" I stare at him blankly, wonder what he just said to me. Ninjas? This day and age? Then I realized he was talking about himself and the other three giant turtles. So they associate themselves as ninja?

"Right," Donnie says, giving Mickey a look, before returning his attention to me. "But Mickey's correct. We fended them off once, but I'm sure that didn't dissuade them from continuing their efforts for whatever it is that they wanted you for."

April nods, stepping in between the two turtles to look at me, like a show of force somehow. "Donnie's right. Let us help you out."

I raise my eyebrow again. "You want to help out a stranger? A girl and her boyfriend and four giant turtles?" April looks a little surprised. Then a little embarrassed.

"C-Casey isn't my boyfriend. We are just friends, and yes, we want to help you out. And by we, I mean myself, Casey and my four turtle brothers," she says, a little flushed.

I blink in surprise. This was new. "Your brothers dress up as turtles? Or your brothers are turtles?"

April looks confused for a moment. "They are turtles who I see as brothers. No blood relation."

"Oh," I say. "So they aren't brothers to each other?"

Mickey puts his hands over his head. "My brain hurts!"

"No," Donnie says, stepping in. "Raph, Leo, Mickey and I are all brothers. But Casey and April are like part of the family. The adoptive family."

"Oh," I say again, but this time in understanding. "Okay, then. Well, that was a little more complex than I suppose it should have been. But really, thanks for the help but I'm sure you guys have got... other things to do with your time..." As I say it I have to wonder just how true that is. If they are really four giant talking turtles, then I don't know, but if they are four guys dressed up as turtles, I can't imagine what kind of lifestyle you would have outside the suit.

"Not really," Donnie admits, albeit a bit sheepishly. "But that's what we do, help people in need."

Now that one was cliché. A bunch of vigilantes we got here. But I wasn't about to say that to their faces. "Thanks, but I don't have the money right now to pay for protection."

"What?" Mickey says again, looking confused. "We could get paid for this?"

April shoots him a dirty look. "No," she looks back over at me, "we don't do it for money."

"Then for what?" I ask to which all three stared back at me. April and Donnie looked sheepish while Mickey looked innocently oblivious.

"To fight crime!" Mickey cheers, looking very proud. Both April and Donnie flinch as if they thought the same thing and realized just how unbelieving it sounded. Mickey didn't seem to see it that way.

I nod slowly, stepping around them. "Okay, thanks, but I'd better go. I've caused enough trouble, as is. Thank for your help today."

"Wait, Taylor," April calls after but I keep going. This entire thing was strange.

First these random guys start chasing me, then by chance I spot the two people in the entire city of New York that are out this late at night and those two people happen to be part of a group that involves four giant turtles that fight crime? In a way, this all seems a bit staged. Like when the Purple Dragons would vandalize places and then come back later and demand protection money. But on the opposite end, they weren't interested in money. And they did help me out when they didn't have to. But still, it's strange.

"You're not safe out here!" Mickey calls out.

"It's New York City," I call back, turning around and walking backwards down the sidewalk slowly. "This entire place is unsafe. But so is the rest of the world." I turn back around and take a few more steps before stopping and turning back. "Oh, hey guys!" They seemed to be half turned to each other, before looking back over at me. "Tell that guy, your brother. The one who caught me, I mean. Leo, I think. Tell him thanks for me. And nice catch." With that, I slip down a side street and take the longest, most complex way possible home, hoping and praying, that no one followed me.

I lock all my doors and windows and pull all the shades. Then I grab a change of clothes and head into the bathroom to quickly shower. I didn't realize I was sweating up a storm, even for it being as cold as it was. By the time I finished and crawled into bed it was already about four in the morning. I groan, digging my face into my pillow and wishing to just forget everything for the night. I slip out of bed on last time to get some headache medicine before collapsing back into it and falling none-too-gracefully into slumber.


	2. Pull through

**Author's Note: So, there is a bit of buzz about this story and I'm really hooked onto the idea so I want to continue. Thank you for those of you that decided to give it a chance! I love hearing what you have to say! Here is the next installment! There may be a bit of inaccuracies as I'm basing a bit passed the timeline set for 2012 version with bits of 2003 version so... yeah. Sorry about that! Let me know what you think, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC and the story line.**

**Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a bit of language.**

**Words Count: 6,732**

It was around noon when I woke up. My entire body ached unlike it ever had before. I could barely move without my body screaming in pain. I roll over onto my left side and pull up the sleeve of my tee-shirt to look at my shoulder and as I suspected, it's already turning a nasty purple color. I sit up slowly, my entire body protesting with the movement, with the exception of my head, which is actually feeling a lot better. Which was good because the rest of me hurt at least ten times more than anything else.

I practically fall out of bed and limp to the bathroom to wash my face and take stock of my bruises. I get a better look at my right shoulder and it's all purpling. Then I lift my shirt to look at my gut to see that it has a slight purple mar bisecting me. There is numerous numbers of small bumps and bruises all along the entirety of my body and then there is the especially nasty purple mark on my knee from when I fell on the other roof because I wasn't paying attention. And I'm kind of a dumbass.

After I finish up in the bathroom, I head back into my room and change into a tee-shirt and jeans, then slipping on my worn old gym shoes. I grab my pants from last night and pull my wallet, house keys, and the flash drive that I still need to return to Andrew. I grab some sunscreen and lather it all over the exposed skin on my body, face, neck, hands, ears, arms, the 'v' of my tee-shirt and the back of my neck. I then braid my hair into a fish tail and pull on a baseball hat and sunglasses.

I quickly go through my kitchen making a list of food I'll need for the week. I don't want to, but there is almost nothing in my dinky little kitchen. I've needed to go shopping for days now, and have just been putting it off. Now I'm in a world of pain and want comfort food.

My apartment is far from being high class, but it could be more in the dumps. It's stable, and everything appears to be up to code and I never see my neighbors, or hear them, so I'd say I got out good. I have a kitchen, a large space that is both my bedroom and my living room and a bathroom. So it's not horrible. It's everything I need. And the neighborhood isn't horrible, either. Overall I like it. Except for now, because it's a good twenty minute walk to the store and my body couldn't be more against the idea of the walk.

Before heading out the door, I take more pain medicine and pull on a zip up hoody, pulling up the hood over the hat. I feel a little stupid, but I was attacked yesterday and I don't want to risk a repeat, especially since I am in so much pain right now. I grab a few cloth grocery bags and fold them up and take them with me. I lock my door behind myself and head for the stairs, walking down three flights to the bottom and then out onto the streets. I begin the long trek to the store, keeping my head down.

The glare of the light hurts me eyes, even with my sunglasses on and hood up, so I keep to the shadows and avoid looking up as much as possible. I take heavily traveled roads, slipping into the crowds to try and avoid drawing as much attention to myself as possible. I easily slip into the crowd and work my way to the store and try to avoid any and all eyes.

I get there and get all the groceries I need, pay for them, and head back home. It's on my way back, that I'm more aware that I should be keeping an eye out for anyone showing any sort of interest in me beyond what I'm used to. Those guys just looked like normal shmucks, last night. Hopefully while I'm mostly covered up, if there is anyone looking for me, they won't be able to recognize me. I make sure to avoid any of my normal routes home. I've seen stalker movies, I can figure how this works. People in routines are the most susceptible to getting targeted. I just never figured that would be me.

No zoning out this time. I'm on edge the entire way home, which took twice as long as opposed to the route I usually took. I feel a bit better back in my own apartment with the door locked behind me. I know the smart thing to do would be to go stay at a friend's house or call the police but the last thing I want to do is endanger any of my few friends and from what I've heard, there is very little police can do in a stalker case, especially with what little I know about these guys. I'm not even sure I could pick any but the guy with the scar on his face in a line up. Even then I didn't really look to see hairstyle or color for his hair or eyes.

I put the groceries away and collapse onto my couch, body aching terribly. I turn on the television and flip through channels until I find something interesting. I quickly make myself some food and wolf it down. I lay on the couch and stare at the television without really watching it. I'd be inclined to believe everything that happened last night was a dream, but the bruises on my body and the pain is unmistakable.

Wrack my brains as I might, I still can't seem to locate any sort of interesting thing about myself. There is nothing about me that would draw the attention, let alone the ire, of anyone with enough people to warrant looking for me. It seemed like they had a picture of me on that one guy's phone. Which I can only assume was from the diner, so whoever is looking for me, must have been at the diner at one point of another. I hardly go out and do anything else anyway. It's the only thing I can think of.

That's the possible where, as to the why? That answer still eludes me.

I rub the loose strands of white hair from my forehead and toss my hat onto the floor in front of me. "What the hell is going on?" I groan, stretching out on the couch, only to flinch and curl up into a tight ball. I'm still in pain and probably will be for a while. It'll probably be worse tomorrow. I slowly push myself to my feet and walk over to my bed, dropping down onto it and picking up my alarm clock, I set it for an hour before work before trudging back over to the couch and curling up into a ball. As much as I don't want to, I still need to go to work today. Missing a single day of work could end in disaster for me.

I don't spend a lot of money on myself, but occasionally I'll splurge, but it scares me to death to have to choose between getting the bills paid or living out on the streets, mostly because I literally will die out on the streets with all that exposure to the sun and there is no way I'm going to seek out my family for help, should I be kicked out onto the streets. I've been living under their thumb my whole life, it's nice to finally be in charge of myself for once.

I blankly watch television, flipping through channels, trying to keep my mind off of my terrible ordeal last night and the amount of pain I'm in now and will be in for the next week. My downfall was when I pulled the covers from my bed around me and easily slipped back into slumber.

About two hours later, I wake up more exhausted than when I went to sleep. I glance over at my clock to see I still had time before I needed to get going to my job, so I snacked on some more food and went to get my wallet that I had thrown onto the counter when I walked in with groceries. I count my tip money from the night before, satisfied that it was a great deal more than I usually get and leave about twenty dollars in there and the rest of my tip money for the week and set it aside. One good thing about my looks; people tip the strange.

For those that know that waitressing is basically for people to live off tips, they usually give a good amount. For those that now about albinism, give a little bit more. As sad as it is, a great portion of my money goes to sunblock and hats and long sleeves. Even when it gets hot out, I still run the risk of getting burned while wearing long sleeves.

As weird as it sounds, I've been raised to fear the sun while loving it at the same time. I enjoy the heat, I really hate the cold, but I can't stay out there too long or I'll get a nasty burn, or worse, skin cancer. And for as long as I've been alive, that has been the fear that has been instilled into me. I was never really taught how to live when I was with my parents, so now that I'm out on my own, I don't know what to do. My work is nice enough to make accommodations, they let me work the late shift so I don't have to deal with the sun as much. They even pull the shades as the day is winding down to night to make me more comfortable while working.

Now, I am perfectly aware that if I stay outside for a few minutes without sunblock I won't just burst into flames, but I'm still just too scared about it to them that they needn't go too overboard. Still, the gesture is nice. Besides, I enjoy the night, up until yesterday is was peaceful to me. Now, I'm a little scared of it too. But if I limit myself anymore, I will just never leave the house again. And that's no way to live, unfortunately.

Once my alarm goes off, I redo my hair, bundle myself back up, hide the money I'm not bringing with me with last week's tips, pop some more pills and gather up all of my needed things, including the flash drive that I remembered at the last minute, before heading to work. Once again I take a long and complex route to work. I keep to the shadows and avoid eye contact while watching everyone else. This experience has left me paranoid.

I make to work with just enough time to change into my uniform and clock in without being late. It's right at this moment that I hate the uniform, it shows off all the bruises on my arms and legs. Thankfully with the diner being cold, I am able to wear my jacket, unzipped, but that doesn't hide the nasty purple bruises on my knees and shins. Hopefully most people won't spend a lot of time checking out my legs. And that sounded weird just thinking about it.

"Hey," Sam says as soon as she sees me heading for the front of the store. "Are we still on for tonight?"

I falter. In the excitement yesterday, I had forgotten about our plans. I'm just in so much pain now, I really just want to lie down. But I was the one who wanted to meet up. And it is Friday so I wouldn't have to leave my apartment at all tomorrow.

"Um, yeah," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "What did you want to do tonight?"

"I don't know," Sam says, running a hand over the back of her neck. "I wish you were old enough to come out drinking with me and my college friends."

"Sorry," I say, as if I could help it. "How about a movie or something?"

Sam shrugs, laying one hand against one of the counters and leans on it. "Sure. Lets just hope that we can close up early tonight."

I nod. "Yeah, tell me about it. So did you get your paper turned in?"

Sam groans, pushing off from the counter. "Yes, and it was hell, let me tell you. Hey, by the way, I heard that someone threw a brick through the window last night as you were closing." She leans in close as if it were some sort of secret. "Do you have any idea what that was about?"

I shake my head. "Not a one. Probably just some bratty kids. I didn't see anything so I guess I don't really know."

Sam sags a little, probably hoping that there would have been more juicy information in the story that I could provide but unfortunately not. "Well," she says, after a moment, "let's head out there and earn a living." I nod in agreement and follow her out, mentally reminding myself to keep an eye out for Andrew. I still have to give him back his flash drive.

* * *

><p>Thankfully, Sam and I were out of the diner by ten-thirty and made it to the movies in time to see the new romantic comedy that she has been dying to see. It was actually pretty good, but the seats were uncomfortable and there were a surprising amount of people out to watch this movie at ten-fifty at night. It was passed one in the morning by the time we went our separate ways. Throughout the movie, I considered telling Sam about what had happened to me the night before, but I just couldn't think of a way to slip it into conversation and something stopped me every time. I just didn't know how to explain it without making it seem like I was losing my mind.<p>

I head home as quickly as possible, keeping my hood up at all times. My white hair, especially in the moonlight, is like a beacon to my location for anyone looking for me. I make sure to stay near open stores in case I need to slip inside, but eventually, I reach an area, still a ways from home that are darkened out for the night. I spot the occasional light on in upper floor apartments, or small businesses finishing closing up for the night.

Every couple of steps I look over my shoulder at the fading lights behind me. I wrap my arms around myself and try to make my body as small as humanly possible while walking. It's right as I pass an alley with a large green dumpster that I hear a loud banging noise and the sound of the lid shutting. My entire body goes rigid as my heart rate picks up. I turn around slowly, stepping back into the alley to look at the dumpster. I inch closer, kneeling down to pick up a broken baseball bat thrown hazardously next to it.

I rear the baseball bat back in my right hand and touch the lid with my left before swiftly pushing it open and ready to beat the shit out of a scarred asshole when I spoke green instead. He screams, I scream and for a moment I stare into blue eyes, just past the orange mask, just screaming at each other.

"Don't hit me!" Mickey yells, holding his hands up over his head. "I'm sensitive!"

I stop screaming and stare at him, covered in trash, protecting his face from me and the broken bat. It takes me a moment to remember his name. "Mickey," I gasp, lowering the bat. "Holy shit, you scared me! Where did you...?" I look straight up at the roofs in front of and behind us. "Did you fall into this garbage can _from the roof?_" I ask, shaking my head.

Mickey lowers his hands, laughing sheepishly. "Yeah. But it was all Leo's fault! If he stopped hitting me in the back of the head while we were following you, because let's just face it, Leo is really obsessed with you," he says, shaking his head, "then I wouldn't have lost my balance and fell." He looks up at me with a silly look on his face. "You can be creeped out. I'm a little creeped out."

I tilt my head. "What?" I look back up toward the dark sky. "Are the rest of you up there too? Donnie?" Two heads peak down at us from the roof I can only assume Mickey fell from and one from the one behind us.

"Uh," says one in front of us and to the left. "Hi, Taylor!" He waves.

"Hi Donnie," I say back, leaning on one hip. "Are you guys going to come down or do I have to strain my neck like this?"

The three heads disappear for a moment before all three come flying in between the gap that forms the alley and land with unbelievable grace and silence. If I hadn't seen them jump, I wouldn't have been able to hear them land. I look around at the three other brothers. The turtle with the red mask - Raph, I'm to assume - crosses his arms over his broad chest and glares at the turtle in the trash.

"Way to go, knucklehead, so much for those years of ninja training," he growls. Mickey glared back at him.

"Well, if you guys stopped hitting me on the head, I wouldn't be the cause of half of the things that end up going wrong because of it!" He crosses his arms over his chest. "That's on you guys." He seems proud. Raph growls, then smacks him in the back of his head.

I turn to look between Donnie and Leo, both glaring at the other two before looking at me sheepishly. I look between the two of them with an annoyed look. "I could have beat the shit out of Mickey if the lighting here was worse," I tell them.

"I'm okay with that," Leo mutters, looking away. I shake my head, look down at the bat still in my hand and drop it.

"I'm seriously, Leo, he helped save my life yesterday, what a way to repay him." That earns me a smile from both brothers. "But really, what are the four of you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there," I wave my hand around us ambiguously, "helping save people? Isn't that what super heros do?"

I hear Mickey pull himself out of the trash can. I glance back quickly to see him brushing the garbage off of himself before returning my attention to the two in front of me.

"Well, yeah," Leo says, scratching the back of his head. He looks a little embarrassed. "I'm just-"

"Creepily," Raph cuts in.

"-making sure-" Leo tries to continue.

"Stalking!" Donnie says, smiling when a glare is sent his way.

"-that you are okay," Leo says, rubbing the back of his neck looking really embarrassed.

Mickey laughs. "In a very weird and border lining _extremely _strange, kind of like Donnie's obsession with April!"

"Mickey!" Donnie and Leo both growl at the orange masked brother. He yelps, then smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry," he says, sounding anything but.

I look around at all four brothers. As an only child, it's kind of interesting to see them all interacting with one another. It's almost like they are best friends that, while they don't always get along, they can always rely on each other. It's actually kind of nice. I mean, I do have siblings. All older siblings that resented me for being the center of attention because of my albinism. But because I was the youngest, it was difficult to get along with them when I took all of mom and dad's time from the rest of them. I always needed them, or so they thought, and made them spend every ounce of their free time taking care of me.

I was a true blue, full-blown, accident. Both in the pregnancy-wise and then being as messed up as I am.

So, seeing these brothers, annoyed but unshakably faithful, to one another is kind of a wonderful thing. I can see it in their eyes. This is just bickering amongst brothers, nothing that they can't get passed. It was the type of thing that I was envious others had that I didn't. That and the ability to leave the house without complete and utter fear that I would die out in the sunlight. I know I won't just fall over dead, but the possibility is always there. For everyone. Not just albinos like myself. I don't want to get horribly burned. I don't want to get skin cancer. And if I can do anything to try and avoid that without completely derailing my life, I will.

"Well, I'm fine," I finally say, blinking out of my thoughts to realize all four brothers are now in front of me, side by side, waiting for me to speak. "Thank you for the concern but I'm in a lot of pain and need to lie down."

"Pain?" Donnie echoes. "Are you okay?"

I nod. "I should be wondering the same thing. I got the shit kicked out of me for running away. You guys actually, like, fought them. Right? Aren't you guys hurt?" I look between the brothers. They look back and forth too, as if the thought hadn't occurred to them.

"Not really," Raph says, then adapts a smug look. "We are ninja after all. We don't get hurt easily." Leo rolls his eyes, as if he begged to differ.

"That fall kinda fucked up my elbow a bit," Mickey says innocently, holding up his right arm. To be honest, I'm a little surprised by his language. I tilt my head to the side a bit.

"That is... unexpected..." I murmur.

"What do you mean?" Leo asks.

"Yeah, I fell from like, seven stories up, I'd like to see you do that and walk away without any bruises," Mickey says, pouting.

"Shut up Mickey," Leo says, smacking, what I can only assume is the youngest of them, in the back of the head. Mickey yelps in pain, then glares at Leo. The blue masked turtle ignores the look. "What's unexpected?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. I guess for some reason... I just assumed you guys were like... kids? You know? I mean, big kids... but kids." At their offended looks, I half turn away, suddenly wishing I hadn't opened my mouth to begin with. "Forget it. What do I know about turtles anyway?"

"You think that we're _kids_?" Leo asks, eyes wide. He sounds exasperated. "We're taller than you are!"

"Well, I'm five-three," I tell them, "most people are." That makes them share a look that I don't understand. "Well, whatever fine. How old are you guys?"

"Eighteen," they chorus, staring down at me.

Suddenly I feel like an idiot. It's at this point that I wished, when I heard Mickey landing in the trash behind me, that I did the smart thing any sane human being would have made when they thought they were being followed and high tailed it out of there. All four stare down at me, expectantly, probably waiting to hear what my age is. But oh my god that is embarrassing. It would be one thing, if like they are four or five or something, I know nothing about giant talking turtles, but to find out that they are only a year younger than me. After I just called them kids? That's embarrassing.

"See?" I say, my voice coming out flat, surprisingly. "You guys are younger. Case closed."

"Oh yeah?" Donnie says, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what about you? How old are you, Ms. Sophisticated? How many more years of wisdom do you have for us 'kids'?" He does air quotes around the words then stares down me expectantly.

I press my lips together and look around for any sort of reason to run away before I make more of an ass of myself than I already have. But then when my eyes land on the four of them, standing like a brick wall between me and freedom, and I knew I wasn't going to slip past them without answering. So I cross my arms over my chest, being mindful of my scraped elbows, and look up at them through my eyelashes. I hope the darkness obscures my face a bit.

"Just one more. I'm nineteen," I grumble, feeling the heat fill my face, trying to avoid their eyes. There is a moment of silence before all four start laughing. Like full-blown laughing, doubled over, fist pounding against the ground/wall. Now I'm extremely embarrassed. I feel my face getting red and so I turn away, glaring at them, trying to muster up the courage to just walk past them and head home, which is the probably the smart move.

I drop my hands and manage to stomp past them and out into the street, turning to head home. I only make it a few feet away before Leo is next to me, still trying to control his laughter.

"I'm sorry, really. You just... don't seem to be nineteen. You look more-"

"Twelve?" I guess, shooting him a dark look.

He seems unaffected. "I was going to say more fourteen or fifteen, but yeah. Sorry about that. We shouldn't have laughed." Although he said it, he didn't seem all that sorry. The other three catch up about ten seconds later. All chiming in their own brand of apology.

"Don't worry about it. Water under the bridge. But really, I got to get home, I'm really sore," I tell them, picking up my speed a bit more, but their long legs, especially Donnie, as he is the tallest, let them keep up easily. Leo smoothly steps into my path. I almost ran right into him, I back up a step and look up at him with raised eyebrows. "What?"

"Are you okay? What sort of pain?" he asks.

"What doesn't hurt?" I mumble. "I got bruises up and down my body. If you guys are vigilantes, I can only imagine you guys know pain, huh?"

"We're no strangers to it," Raph says with what sounds like pride. I'm not sure if it was a turtle thing, or if it is a ninja thing, or if it is a boy thing, but I'm not sure pain is something to find pride in. I hate getting hurt, I can't imagine how someone could find anything short of displeasure in it. But I guess since I'm none of the three aforementioned things that I wouldn't.

I hum, staring at the red masked ninja, finally taking a moment to study him. He's not the shortest of the brothers - that's Mickey, to his left - with green skin that has a slight yellow tint to it. He's got dark brown elbow and knee pads and dark brown wrapping around his wrists. Then he's got white medical tape around his knuckles around his fists and then on the bends of his fingers. Finger knuckles? And a dark brown sash around his waist, holding up two three pronged... knife things. There is also dark brown wrapping around his feet leaving wiggle room for his toes, with a small crack on front left side of his chest. And then there was his eyes. A wide, vibrant green eyes. The red of his mask, really brings it out with the long tattered red ribbons following after him.

Then I look over at Mickey. Cute and innocently staring at me with big, dark blue eyes through a bright orange mask. It has the shortest ribbons of the four of them, probably about three or four inches. His green has a more prominent tint of yellow than his brother. He has light brown elbow and knee pads with light brown wrapping around his wrists and white medical tape wrapped on his knuckles, same as his brother. A dark brown sash, identical to Raph's wrapped around his waist with two orange and brown chained... things. I don't know what they are either. There is wrapping around his feet too, but his are an orangeish tan color.

Next is Donnie, with his kind, dark brown eyes behind a long ribboned purple mask. He was the tallest of the four of them with the most yellow tinted green skin, therefore the most light appearing of the bunch. The chest part of his shell is a dark brown as opposed to both Mickey and Raph peach colored chests. He has a slightly darker shade of brown knee and elbow pads than Mickey. He still had the white medical tape on his hands and fingers and even those around his wrists. A sash across his waist and then up over his right shoulder. A stick about as long as he is tall on his back with some white tape wrapped around the center, to probably make it easier to hold on to. His feet are also wrapped up, I note as I slowly draw my eyes back up to his face to see the smile on his face, revealing a row of straight white teeth.

And finally, in front of me is Leo. The blue of his mask makes his bright blue eyes seem even purer than I've ever seen blue eyes. The green of his skin is probably the most green of all four of them. The bandages around his wrists are a cream color with the white medical tape on his hands and fingers. Light brown elbow and knee pads with a dark brown sash across his waist and then up over his right shoulder with those two... swords, those are swords, over his right shoulder. His feet are wrapped up in crisp white tape and his chest is a slightly darker shade of brown from Mickey and Raph but not as dark as Donnie's. The ribbons of his mask hang out over his left shoulder.

"Taylor?" Leo asks, looking concerned. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

I shake the thoughts away, feeling flushed, I pretty much just like awkwardly checked all four of them out while they were standing there around me. I've never done that before. I'm treading on unfamiliar territory now. I don't really know how to react about... anything.

"A little bit," I admit, wrapping my arms around myself. "My pain medication has already worn off. If this is going to take more time then I need to sit down, my legs are killing me." I reach down and rub both of my thigh, kneading them a bit trying to ease the throbbing pain. Mickey grabs one of my hands and when I look at him, he smiles sweetly and leads me over to the sidewalk, sitting down on the curb and tugging me down next to him.

It's almost embarrassing how slow it takes for me to lower onto the curb. Mickey was even nice enough to hold my hand, accepting my weight as I lean down to sit as if it were nothing, which I'm thankful for. His hand is large wrapped around mine, and it's warm.

"Better?" He asks, smiling sweetly. I raise an eyebrow but can't help the little smile that crosses my face. He is really sweet. I think I like Mickey.

"Yeah, thanks." I look up at Leo, who was still in front of me, hands crossed over his chest, foot tapping in thought. I watch the movement for a long about a minute, wondering what could possibly be going through his head right now. I reach back with my free hand and run my hand through my half unraveled fish tail braid, wanting to mend it, but not wanting to let go of Mickey's hand just yet. I can hear him humming slightly under his breath, looking around without a single car or worry in the world.

Finally, Leo kneels down in front of me and looks up at me with big blue eyes. "Can I see it? Your wounds? We should at least check to make sure you're okay," he makes a face, reaching to scratch his throat, as if embarrassed before he clears his throat and looks around at anything but my eyes. "Unless you already saw a doctor..."

"I haven't," I told him. "To be honest, I think I was in shock for most of the night and during the day today. I think now I'm slowly being pulled out of my shock in favor of reality." I look around at the four turtles around me, before looking down at my lap. I look over at Mickey, who's obviously oblivious to what's going on, then to Raph, his arms crossed over his chest with a curious look on his face. Then I look over at Donnie, who's looking down at Leo as if trying to understand something complex while Leo is shaking his head.

I pull my hand from Mickey's and roll up my sleeves. I hold my hands out to Leo and takes them, slowly rotating them around, looking at the dark marks, making sure not to put too much pressure on them. He checks both arms and then I roll up my pant legs, happy that I had the foresight yesterday to shave my legs. I never would have done it otherwise. I mean, my hair is white, but still, I walk around in a skirt for a living, no need for everyone to see my legs all hairy.

"Ow!" Mickey says, leaning close to look at my left knee while Leo, with creases between his eyes that only seem to deepen, stares at my right knee.

Raph leans in a little to get a look before he uncrosses his arms. "Mickey's right. That looks like it hurts."

I nod. "Well, it does. But it also looks a lot worse than I'm sure it is. My skin is so pale that it kind of shows up looking like... ten times worse, I'm sure."

Mickey reaches out and presses a single green finger against my bruised knee. I yelp and jerk my leg back, almost kicking Leo in the face. Donnie and Raph are quick to smack the orange masked turtle on the back of the head to which he sheepishly apologized for. Leo glares at him for a moment before the look fades and he returns his gaze to my knees for a moment.

"Okay, that cuts it," Leo says, looking over at the purple masked brother. "Donnie?"

The stick wielder nods, pulling out a small device that looks like a turtle shell about the size of his palm. He kneels down next to me and holds it out for me to take. "This is a shellphone, it has all our numbers programed inside of it, that includes April and Casey's numbers. Calls us if you need anything, anything at all. Okay? It also has GPS tracking, can get onto the internet and has unlimited text and minutes," he says proudly, beaming at me.

I stare down at the... _shell_phone unable to decide if I'm being punked or if that phone really is the cutest thing in the world. Just thinking about the name makes me smile a bit. But then I realize that they are giving it to me. It's like my own personal bat signal. I call them if I need help. As kind of amazing as that sounds, I can't seem much difference to when I was at home. Only now, my helpers are further away, their turtles, and they are trying to protect me from people, not mother nature.

"Guys, I can't take this," I say, shaking my head.

"Why not?" Raph asks. "You don't have to use it. Just think of it as a 'just in case' measure." He shrugs his shoulders.

"Yeah," Mickey says, curling his hand into a fist. "Like, just in case those guys need another ninja turtle smack down!" He pumps his fist up into the air. Raph gives him a look before nodding slowly.

Leo looks at Mickey, mulling his words for a moment before nodding and looking back over at me. "Raph and Mickey are both right. You might end up needing help and that is the fastest and easiest way to get into contact with any or all of us. We were lucky last time, but I'm not willing to bet on that luck holding out," Leo says, glaring over my shoulder with a foreboding look on his face that leaves my stomach unsettled.

I want to deny it further, tell them that they don't need to worry about me. That I'm thankful that they helped me out earlier but I was under the impression that it was a one time thing. I didn't expect to get my saviors on speed dial, nor do I really think I'm worth it, but at the same time, they went through all the trouble of getting this, or however they managed to acquire this cute little phone and all they are asking is that I use that if I need anything. I was already told I didn't have to use it.

"Okay, fine," I say, taking the phone and cradling it between my hands. "But no more following me, alright? Go out and save the world or something. There has got to be more pressing matters going on out there than me." I push myself up to my feet. "Okay, Leo? Donnie? Raph? Mickey? No more following?"

Mickey grins, throwing his arms behind his head in a very boyish motion. "No promises, Leo can get pretty obsessed." Leo appears right in his face, growling loudly, making the younger slip back, waving his hands around in surrender.

I'm not sure what to say to that. I'm not even sure I really understand. All I do know is that I want to go home, take some medicine and go to bed. So, I pat Leo on the shoulder as I pass by, albeit awkwardly because how else would it be? And head home. After a few steps I turn back to thank them again for the, huh, shellphone clutched tightly in my right fist, only to see the spot where they all once stood to be empty. I take a moment to just wonder if I had imagined them there at all, but the phone warming up in my grasp seemed proof enough that they were.

And in about thirty seconds of my back being turned, they managed to disappear without a sound and leave no trace of them being there. True ninjas, if I've ever seen some.


	3. The call

**Author's Note: Hey, so it's like five in the morning, I've been writing all night. I hope that this chapter makes sense. It's the longest chapter for this story, so there you go, haha! Thanks to everyone for your support thus far! I love hearing what you have to say. Now, I need to sleep. Thanks for everything! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC and the story line.**

**Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a bit of language.**

**Words Count: 7,170**

Monday rolls around, two days following me getting to see the four turtle brothers again and getting the shellphone, was the day I needed it.

I made it through Saturday without leaving my apartment and about two hours before work on Sunday I got a call from Sam asking me if she could take my shift. My normal instinct would have been no, in the nicest way possible, but I was still in a lot of pain and figured I could live taking one day off, especially with all the extra hours I put in on that Thursday night when the police had to be called. So I'm back into work, it's dark out, me and this older woman Mary, were walking around helping out our customers, it was about nine-thirty when the door chimed and three men walked in.

Mary spotted them right away and made a move to go and serve them, as I was working behind the counter, only to stop and freeze up. I pause in the middle of pouring a man with a brief case his second cup of coffee to look up at the obvious thugs waltzing into our diner. One of the men, probably the leader of the trio, walked up to the counter and sat down.

"Hey cutie, how about you and your friend give us a bit of service?" He grins wolfishly, his two friends moving to flank him at the counter. Mary looks at me, eyebrows puled together in worry but I shake my head and walk over to the three and pull out my pad and pen, noting the uncomfortable looks on the man I just served face. He quickly finishes his drink, probably scalding his mouth and throat while doing so, before throwing down some money and scurrying out of the place. Everyone else, an old couple, a mother and her teenage daughter and a middle-aged man, talking on his cellphone in the corner, all look on uncomfortably.

"What can I get for you?" I ask, holding up the notepad, pen poised over it.

The leader, a tall scrawny guy with a sleeve tattoo of too dark of figures for me to make out up his right arm, hums to himself, looking through the menu very uninterested. The guy to his left, at least twice my height and three times my body weight, just keeps staring at me with a lecherous eye. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. As I wait, I look at Mary running back and forth helping out customers, her once crisp graying bun now loose and wetted down slightly with sweat. She keeps sending me anxious looks, mouthing apologies every time our eyes connect.

After a full two minutes of just standing there, waiting, I finally say, "I'll come back when you're ready," and turn only making it half a step before I'm called back.

"Wait, cutie, I just found out what I want," he says with a thick Manhattan drawl. The old couple couldn't have run faster from the building if they tried.

I suppress a groan and turn on my heel slowly back toward the three Purple Dragons. "Yes, sir?" I ask dryly, holding up my pen and paper. I watch the woman and her daughter bow their heads and run too, mouthing apologies to Mary and I as they passed.

"Sir?" the man echoes, smiling crookedly. The last man got up and left, quickly with his head bowed. "I like that."

"What can I get for you?" I ask again, not wanting them here any longer than they needed to be. If I had my choice they wouldn't be here to begin with. But as has become apparent the last few days: the fates can be cruel.

"I'm Guy, by the way," says the man - Guy - that crooked smile on his face. It took everything within my power to not roll my eyes and scoff at that name. I just met four giant turtles with better names than that. Thankfully all that happened was my face remained blank, who knows what he would do if I did scoff or mention that? Most certainly nothing good.

I don't say anything, just stare at him and he makes a show of leaning forward on the counter and pulling the flap of my black jacket to the side to look at my name tag. I fight the urge to push his hand away and dump hot coffee on him. He holds onto my jack half a moment longer than he needed to, making my stomach plummet into my shoes. I stepped back a bit to dislodge his hand without being really mean about it, trying to play it off as shifting. Whether he believe it or not didn't show on his face as he leaned back into his seat.

"Taylor," he says and my name sounds like poison to my ears. I can't stop the tightening of my fists around my pen and paper.

"Your order?" I ask through clenched teeth. My eyes flicker over to Guy's lecherous friend, feeling my throat constrict a bit as I try not to outwardly gag at his heavy gaze practically stripping my clothes from my body. My pain from a few days ago was now a dull ache I barely noticed, but it renewed a bit of vigor when I tensed up at his slimy look.

Guy looks between his two friends before smiling up at me. "What I want, Taylor, is for you to feel safe here at your..." he looks around, gesturing to the diner in general, "_establishment_, so to speak. But, as you know, I'm sure that good things never come cheap so we will be needed just a... small compensation fee, if you will."

I didn't think my stomach could fall farther. I just stare at him, unmoving, mind reeling. I open my mouth about to say...what? I'm not really sure. But I knew that if I mouthed off that would only end in bad news for myself and the people here in the diner with me and I wasn't about to intentionally put others lives in danger because I was feeling a little bulletproof.

Instead I just stood there, closing my mouth, staring back at him. His dark eyes were practically shining in amusement. After a long moment, Guy stands up slowly and makes his way around the corner. It's at this point that I wished I had taken some form of self-defense as a child. Save the day and kicks some royal ass and earn the gratitude from the boss, maybe even get a raise, but that's not what happened.

What happened was, I stood there, frozen in place as we were robbed and the lecher twirled my braid around his fingers, whispering in my ear without me hearing a single word of it. As Mary ad I were robbed, even the kitchen guy, Frank, in the back was, yet all I kept thinking about was this disgusting man, touching me and whispering to me.

That, and only two days into owning the shellphone, did I need it. And the infuriating thing was, is that it was sitting in my locker at the back of the store waiting to be used and there wasn't a chance in hell that I would be able to slip away to grab it. I was given the Holy Grail of opportunities to stop the Purple Dragons from robbing us near blind, and it slipped through my fingers like water. And I was left shaking, not because of fear, but because of anger. Had I had the foresight, I would have texted one of the brothers the moment the Purple Dragons waltzed into the diner.

But I didn't and I had to watch them leaving, cackling and counting money with pride, angry and disgusted with myself. Mary put her arms around me, as if to comfort me, when really I knew it was to comfort herself. Mary is a single mom with a kid getting ready to go to college and has been saving all of her money to send him somewhere good. She could have used the extra money, more than I could. And that just made me feel even worse.

The police were called again that night, as well as the store manager. The police promised to look into it, but I had little hope. Purple Dragons have long since taken over the city and to me, it seemed like the only people fighting back were four giant talking turtles.

* * *

><p>A week passed with no repeat of what happened at the diner. We were finally allowed to open again with security cameras and a stern promise from the police that they would be making more rounds in the area. Up police traffic, one of them said. I'm not all that sure what they made me feel. Annoyed? A bit grateful? I'm not sure. Overall, I felt edgy. I kept thinking that they would suddenly come back, but the days kept coming and going with no sign of them, or Andrew, who I have yet to return his flash drive to.<p>

In the pocket of my jacket at all times is the shellphone and the flash drive that I grow more and more curious about as time goes by. It must not have been all that important if Andrew has yet to return it, but at the same time, I can't imagine that not being true, seeing as it looks really expensive.

Every time I walk home from work, I would keep throwing looks over my shoulder, waiting for that shady people that chased me down a little over a week ago to make some sort of appearance but they have yet to do so again, possibly confirming my theory that either their reason for chasing me wasn't good enough to continue or they have timed out to take some time to regroup and plan out their next move. Which out of the two, I hope I'm not stupid for choosing the first one. Or perhaps I'm just predictable like that.

I went to bed tonight, clutching my shellphone, feeling completely uneasy. As I walked home just hours prior, I felt someone following me, or perhaps my nerves have been so fried from going a whole week unable to sleep well while being strung up so tight it's border lining extreme paranoia. I just don't know how to make myself feel better. I don't know who talk to about what's going on because most wouldn't understand and would probably think that I'm crazy, and the rest have a part to play in my mounting paranoia.

I turn onto my side, clutching the shellphone a moment longer before laying it next to me on the bed and turning away and closing my eyes. My slumber tonight, just like from the last few days, is light and not at all restful. It's the worst night of sleep I've had in a long time. After an unbearably long time of just lying there with my eyes closed wishing for slumber that refused to come, I finally crawl out of bed, grab the shellphone and step out of the window and onto the metal scaffolding stairs spiraling up the outside of my building. It's nearing sunrise. I must have been slipping in and our of slumber for hours.

Thank god I've got the next few days off to try and wind down from my panic and prepare for work again. I sit down and let my legs dangle off over the side, hanging on the metal bars that prevent me from toppling over the edge all the way to the concrete below. This is the first time in a long time that I've just sat outside, no long sleeves, no hats, no sunglasses and no sunscreen. If anything it's a little liberating. It helps me forget that I'm not as normal as I'd want to be. I had forgotten how much I liked sunrise.

They were peaceful. The start of something new. Hopefully today is going to be a bit warmer than it is right now. It's actually really cold, I have to wrap my arms around myself to try and keep my warmth in. My soft cotton shorts and large tee-shirt aren't enough to protect me from the dropping temperature of the city. With a quick glance at my phone, showing that it's almost five in the morning. It's going to start staying dark later into the mornings.

After a few more minutes of my shivering, watching the sun slowly rise overhead. I've finally had enough of my own shivering, so I pull my legs back through and climb to my feet, smoothing out my shorts a bit before turning around and kneeling, getting ready to climb back into my house when I notice directly across from me, my front door knob is slowly turning. At first, I just stare, wondering if my eyes are playing a tricks on me. I edge in slowly and quietly through the window and take a few steps closer, squinting at the blurry image of the door. I silently curse my horrible vision before I see the slightly blurred door start to open. I quickly, and yet still quietly dive out onto the fire escape again and close the window almost all the way before stepping out of the view of the window.

My heart thumbs loudly in my ears as I slowly peak around the corner after a full minute to see someone actually in my house. I don't catch much, but I don't have to. All I know is I have to get the holy hell out of there. I turn and, as quietly as humanly possibly - and I don't know how quietly that is as I'm too busy screaming internally at not only the invasion of privacy but also because it's probably those same people who I just today wrote off again - down the emergency fire escape all the way down to the bottom before climbing down the later and onto the concrete.

As if by fate as soon as my feet touch the ground, two guys, one having an oh-so-familiar scar on his face rounds the corner into the alley facing me. I push my hair out of my line of sight and for a moment we just stare at each other, as if wondering if we were all three seeing what we thought we were. My flight instinct kicked in right away and so I turned onto my heel and ran in the opposite direction.

The concrete is painful against my bare feet. I'm not heading anywhere in specific. All I know is that I need to put as much distance between myself and all of those guys and their reasons for chasing me as possible. My heart is pounding and all I'm seeing is blurs. I stumble a bit and fall to my knees, but the pain barely registers on my radar. I climb back onto my feet and keep running, weaving in between people and even being absent minded enough to run into the street, almost getting hit by a car in the process. I'm not sure how I slipped by relatively undamanged, but before I knew it, I was lost within my own home city.

I don't know how long I've been running or how far I got, but eventually the adrenaline wore off and I fell to my knees, much to my own discomfort, in a back alley, wide enough for a single car to fit in. There is some kind of tarp overhead, probably to prevent rain or something from doing... whatever. My brain really hurts and I think I'm in pain, but for the life of me, I can't seem for really form a coherent thought.

I feel my arms and legs, pulling me to the back of the alley, curling up beside some trash. I think my feet are bleeding, and they hurt, but I can't bring myself to focus on either of them. My heart is pounding like mad and yet I can't seem to remove the heavy weights put over my eyelids as they pull them down. Heavier and heavier. I was never all that strong, regardless of whether I wanted to be or not. For some reason, being strong never came easily to me. Perhaps it was because I was babied all my life, catered to my ever need like I was some kind of delicate princess. Perhaps it was the seconds in-between the catering, the scorned looks from my siblings, the tired exasperations of my parents.

The constant worries, on both sides. Will she get burned? Is it too hot for her to keep wearing those long sleeves? What if this sunscreen is somehow defective? Is that tiny red blotch of skin the start of cancer? Will she get mom and dad's attention again? We can't go to the fair as a family because it'll be too sunny out there for _her? _Do mom and dad think of her as their only child? Do they know that she isn't perfect?

With those questions swirling around in my head, I slip into slumber.

I know I'm dreaming right away, because I'm standing out in my backyard in a beautiful, yet ironic, sundress, staring up at the sky. My arms are outstretched like wings at my sides, basking in the warmth of the sun. I could feel the gentle breeze blow across my bare arms. I could see the strands of my long white hair sway back and forth around me. I don't feel the familiar oiliness that accommodates my skin whenever I go outside. I feel different. There is no swelling fear that I always have in the pit of my stomach whenever I head outside that this _this _might be the day that ultimately leads to my death.

I always knew it was crazy. Everyone dies eventually but I've seen enough pictures, and heard how horrible skin cancer is going to be more times than I care to admit, to know that it's not the way I want to live my life until I die. I know that there is very little that I can do to prevent any of the other cancers, but I'll be damned if I don't do all I can to prevent this one.

So that's why this is strange to me. Perhaps as a kid, I knew, but as an adult, I've never been out in the sun without globs of sunblock on my body to help keep me safe. But standing out here, as an adult, feeling the unobscured burning heat of the sun beating down on me, I don't feel the least bit frightened. In fact, I feel free. At peace, even. I never thought that was possible.

That's how I know this is a dream. I would never have been this calm out like this. But that doesn't mean it's unpleasant. In fact, it's a dream I've had for as long as I can remember. Moreso when I was young and wanted to be just like all of the other kids but now, as I've grown older, the dream started happening less and less until now it only happens once every blue moon.

_And oh does the blue moon shine now._

I'm just standing in the backyard, dirt beneath the soles of my feet, green grass curling around my toes. It felt so nice and peaceful. I always both enjoyed and hated these dreams. I loved them because they make me feel the most normal. Or at least, a lot more like everyone else. When I'm inside and with people who I'm used to and are used to me, I feel normal enough, they don't tend to stare and they treat me as if I was just like them. But I also hate these dreams because once the sun really starts shining and I open my eyes, the illusion is shattered and the fear returns.

I remember, back when I was ten years old, I would seek sanctuary from my siblings and parents on the window seat in the attic. I would just sit there and stare out at the world beyond, watching the boys ride by on their skateboards and the girls walking in clusters of three or four, throwing their heads back to laugh all glossed up with long hair, curly or straight.

Everything out there looked so beautiful and bright. There was very little I wouldn't do to just be part of that world. I felt like the little mermaid Ariel looking out at the world above, wanting nothing more than to be able to step out of my life and into theirs. I wanted to be just like them. To go outside and not fear that something horrible would happen to me just by being outside. Just for a meager moment of being outside, just a smidge too long, could have a lifetime of consequences. I'm jealous of Sam's smooth spray on tan or my sister, Julia's sun kissed skin from years of track and great joy of the outside.

"You're beautiful too," Mom would whisper in my ear at night when I was younger and she would tuck me in at night. She would grab a handful of my hair and let it slide from her fingers strand by strand like a waterfall of snowy white silk. "Just a different type of beautiful. Julia and Hannah and you are all different. You are all beautiful in your own right. There is no need to be jealous, or upset."

That was so easy for her to say. Mom took wonderful care of herself. Kept her hair a deep luscious chocolate brown with eyes so dark they could stare right through me. She went to the gym three times a week to stay physically fit and rarely ate moderately healthily. She's been a stay at home mom ever since my oldest brother, Brandon was born when my mom was seventeen.

Julia is practically a carbon copy of our mother. The same long brown hair and dark eyes, just eighteen months younger than Brandon. She enjoyed spending her time outdoors, gardening and doing nature walks. She was always athletic. Long, strong arms and legs all wrapped up in neatly sculpted muscles. Like our mom, she hardly wore any make-up and yet still looked so drop dead gorgeous. She works hard as a fitness coach part time. The rest of her time is dedicated to her high school sweetheart.

While Hannah has more of our father's looks. She has short, yet eloquently styled dirty blond hair with lightly tanned skin and large, dark green eyes. She's just as tall as Julia with a dust of freckles her face, under her eyes and over her nose. She wore more make-up than Julia and spent more of her time in-doors as a professional beautician. She's the one in our family that was a lot more into fashion than the rest of us girls, my mom included. She was also well on her way to starting her own business with her best friend and business partner.

Then there was me. Short with white hair and almost purple eyes. Really _really _pale and while I was thin, there was hardly any muscle. I was average height as a little girl, but when I was suppose to go through puberty, it was almost like I half went through it and then stopped. Next to me, my sisters and even my mom looked like powerful amazon women and I looked like a hobbit, excluding the large hairy feet. But if I did have hobbit feet, it wouldn't make me any less of a spectacle, or more. I'd be surprise if people weren't wondering if I had hobbit feet.

Elijah Woods somehow made being a hobbit look adorable.

Julia was almost fourteen when I was born and Hannah was eleven. My eldest sibling Brandon was fifteen and my two twin brothers were both five. It was like some kind of joke that all my brothers and sisters grew up all tall and beautiful and strong and I grew up short and strange and weak.

I think out of all of them, Brandon was the only one that didn't hate me or at least wasn't annoyed with me. I think Brandon realized long ago that he wasn't the baby of the house and wasn't going to be treated like he was. He had gotten used to it growing up and had just become quietly detached. He was the one of us that us that followed my dad's footsteps and worked his way through college to become a medical researcher.

My twin older brothers, Jake and Kev, are working their way through life. Jake became a music teacher at a local high school while Kev is in college working to be an architect. And then there's me, nineteen years old, working as a waitress for next to nothing. Yeah, mom and dad sure must be proud of me. When I set out on my own I wanted as little help from my parents as possible. I got an apartment and job on my own. I even left my phone at home and rarely keep into contact with my family. I will once I'm on solid ground and able to buy my own phone and make the payments without it drowning me. For the past year I've been doing the best I can and have somehow managed to survive, until now.

And with that thought flittering across my mind, I open my eyes. I look around with blurry vision but eventually close my eyes, unable to make anything out. My legs are pulled up to my chest, my back is pressed against the side of the building behind me and my head rests on my knees. I blink a few times and rub my eyes before sitting up, reaching up to rub out the kink in my neck and shoulders.

I look around, trying to make sense of what is going on around me. I'm still so tired, but I am lucid enough to realize that I'm outside and that it's bright outside and yet still I managed to pull myself into a dark corner and remain hidden from the sun. The memories from... earlier come back to me. And it's strange. My heart rate picks up and I become just slightly more aware of my surroundings, but complete panic doesn't set in. But it is then that I realize my feet really do hurt and that I'm a lot more tired than I should be.

I stretch out my right leg and cringe dazedly at the sight of my torn up feet and at how unbelievably hard it is to move. I think it's still pretty cold out. The blood is dry and caked on but I can't figure out why they started bleeding in the first place. And that's when I noticed the blood down the back of my right leg. I twist my leg a little a spot something had stuck me in the back of the leg just below my knee and when I pulled my leg up, I bent it weird and made it cut me.

I reach down to tenderly touch it, and maybe try and figure out what it is, but I reach for it with my right hand that was settled against my stomach. The same hand still holding the shellphone. I'd like to say that even while dazed and extremely confused, I managed to pull myself from my slump and figure a way out of this situation. I managed to trace these guys back to their ring leader, kick some ass, and save the day. Maybe join in with the four brothers and help save the day. But I didn't. I didn't even try.

I'm currently not feeling slightly bulletproof. If anything, I feel like jelly, malleable and shapeless. And if I was being completely honest with myself, I wanted nothing more than, at that moment, to be under the carefully constructed net that my parents insisted that I kept over myself at all times. I'm not very strong. I don't know what I'm doing and to be really honest, I'm scared. Perhaps not so much at this moment. I'm moreso numb right now than anything. But I wouldn't even know where to start. I wouldn't know where to start looking or even if I would be playing into some kind of ploy. I'm not built like that.

So, I send a silent prayer to whoever my semi lucid brain managed to conjure up, and turn on the phone. My eyes dip closed for a moment without my consent. I almost let myself slip back into dreamland, remembering how much I yearned for it, what I hope is just a few hours before, but then I remember where I am and force my eyes open again. There were people chasing you. How in the world did they not find you? Are you well enough hidden? Did you run faster than they expected? No, don't worry about that now. Worry about getting away!

I shake myself, feeling my head rattle a bit before focusing on the shellphone again. I run my fingers along the smooth glass screen, with more difficulty than I remember, before hitting the contact button. The very first contact reads: **April O'Neil. **I was about to hit enter, when I realized that that couldn't be one of the brothers. That was obviously a girl's name. Or maybe it was one of those names like mine where it could be both male and female. But, April? Isn't that a month? Oh, dear lord, what is happening to my brain.

I shake myself again and scroll down a bit more. The next name is under c; **Casey Jones.** And my finger hovered over that name for a moment but my mind managed to stop me as I have no clue who that was. No face to the name. I vaguely remember someone mentioning that name to me. One of the brothers maybe? But he was not who I need to get into contact with, right? No, he wasn't one of the brothers. Or was he?

**Donnie, **the next one reads and that one I somewhat recognize. A flash of purple. He was the purple masked turtle. That's right.

I click on the name and the call button before slowly lowering my head to my knees, eyes drooping closed and pulling to phone to rest onto my cheek. After two quiet rings on my end, the phone clicks and there is a moment of silence that follows before a hesitant, "Taylor?"

"Donnie..?" I croak, my throat is dry, I realize. I wonder how long I've been sitting out in the cold. How long have I been asleep? I just can't figure out why I'm so out of it. "I think something... something is wrong, Donnie... I think it's an emergency. I..." I trail off, slipping into slumber a bit more.

"Taylor? Hey, Taylor, what's wrong? Where are you?" Donnie calls through the phone, the pitch of his voice rising. I can hear him moving - running? - somewhere. He says something that is too muffled for me to understand. Maybe I'm just too out of it. What is wrong with me?

"I'm sitting..." I mumble, pulling my head up and resting it back against the brick of the building behind me.

"Taylor," a different voice says, slightly distant. "It's Leo, can you hear me?"

My head bobs a bit and I have to really do a full body shake to pull myself back to reality. "Leo...?" I mumble, squinting at the wall across from me. It's a wonder no body seems to have stumbled upon me yet. "Leo.." I repeat, trying to remember which one that was. Blue. Yes, he was the blue masked turtle. "Leo, I'm cold," I tell him.

"Cold?" Leo echoes. "You're somewhere cold?"

"I wonder," another voice says, "could she be outside, hm?"

A sigh. "Not now, Raph."

"Is that a stupid question?" Raph asks, his voice a mixture of confused and annoyed.

"Should we ask her?" the final brother asks. Mickey, my brain tells me. I open my eyes wide and fight the urge to blink for fear I'll just close my eyes and not be able to wake up again. "Is _that _a stupid question?" Mickey asks.

"Not really," Donnie says. "Are you outside, Taylor?"

"Yeah..." I murmur. "And it's cold. I'm so... so tired, Donnie. Why am I so tired?"

"That's no good," Donnie says, a strange urgency now in his voice. "Too much exposure to the cold could cause hypothermia. Now, I know it's not too cold outside, but she doesn't sound very lucid. Her words are slurred." It takes me a lot longer than I think it should have to realize that he wasn't talking to me. I close my eyes in a very long blink, my eyes burning a bit from a mixture of holding them open for too long and the cold.

"Everything will be alright, Taylor," Leo says assuredly. "We are on our way. Where are you?"

"Outside..." I say, blinking slowly.

"Well that sure narrows it down," Raph says, annoyed. "Come on, Taylor, give us something to work with! What can you see?"

"See..?" I mumble looking around me. "Trash... and a wall."

"Holy shit," Mickey gasps. "She could be anywhere! Ow!"

"Shut up, Mickey!" Raph snaps. "Anything a little more specific?"

I look around for anything with a name. "Milky way."

There is a long pause before Mickey finally says, "Guys, I don't think we can reach her if she's in a carton of milk. Do you know how many cartons of milk are in New York city? Yeah, a lot-ow!"

"She's talking about the candy bar," Donnie says. "I hope."

"It doesn't matter," Leo says. "Donnie, can you trace her shellphone?"

"Oh, yes!" Then the sound of something moving rapidly. Feet padding against a rough surface?

"Maybe this is a stupid question," Mickey starts.

"It probably is," Raph interjects, bringing out a sharp huff of air from me. I'm too tired to really laugh. It's getting harder to open my eyes again after each blink. I sure hope they can hurry.

"But," Mickey stresses a moment before continuing, "are you okay? Like, hurt or anything?"

There is a moment of silence on the other end before Leo finally says, "Yeah, that actually is a good question."

"Hurt?" I repeat, staring down at my legs. "I think so. Yeah, I think that's blood." I reach down and touch my toes, they don't hurt. But they are very pale and cracking. I wiggle them a bit to see them still moving, but it's only when I rub my feet across the concrete a bit do they hurt. A sharp piercing pain that quickly ebbs away. This entire thing, and by that I mean both chases, have been positively brutal on my feet.

"How badly?" Leo asks, his voice stern. "Are you still bleeding?"

"Um.. no, I don't think so. It's just my... feet... I think. I'm just... really tired... and it's cold..." I lay my head back down onto my knees and close my eyes. "They.. came back, Leo..."

"Don't worry, we're on our way. Donnie-"

"I got it!" Donnie says, sounding far away.

"We're coming now, don't move!" Leo orders, and then the sound of running.

"Well that's stupid," I hear Raph say. "Come on, Fearless, her feet are hurt and she's falling asleep, where the hell would she be going?"

"Home?" Mickey guesses. A pause, then, "What?"

"To the shellrazor!" Donnie says. "Hold on, Taylor!"

I open my eyes a little, but everything's blurry, I'm not even sure of what I'm looking at now. I reach out my free hand awkwardly, only feeling air. I pull my hand to the safety and warmth of my stomach and close my eyes again. "...to what?"

"Your booty, because you're about to get shellshocked!" Mickey cheers. Then a chorus of his name.

"...okay..." I murmur, feeling myself not slip, but fall into the blackness. Even with my eyelids connected, they still feel heavy, like they should be closing a bit more than they already are. But then my entire body relaxes and the blackness swallows me.

I pull from the darkness just a bit, what feels like moments later, to someone touching me. It goes from my exposed cheek down to my neck and presses for a moment before pulling away. There's noises. Talking, I think, but I can't pull myself out any farther and instead slip back into slumber. A second later, I pull back out a gain to feel someone pulling me into their arms. I feel like I should be flattered, or maybe bashful, but instead, I feel relief. I think the ground was really hurting my back and neck. Everything's stiff.

"...-ve her to me, Leo, you got to drive," Mickey says and his voice sounds far away. It's like my head is under water, their voices sound distant and muffled to me. I try and open my eyes but they don't obey.

"Mickey's right...tter driver than the rest..." That sounds kind of like Donnie.

My lips part, "Cold.." escapes me. I'm not sure they heard me. I'm not even sure I actually spoke. I hadn't thought it before, which is a surprise, but the thought comes to me now: am I dying? If I am, how would I know? I don't think I bled enough for that to be an issue, but maybe exposure... or the wound, wherever and whatever it may be, could get infected? I don't really know. Why am I just now thinking about it? I must be really out of it.

I'm shaken a bit, and moving. Someone is carrying me and they're moving. A pause, movement, then shifting before I'm lowered onto something warm. I'm still sitting up, but now there is something warm under me. The whole right side of my body is pressed against something warm, even my right cheek and forehead. Whatever it is moves rhythmically. Against me, two second pause, then away, against me, two second pause, then away. Over and over again. It's gentle and lulling. I can feel myself slipping away again.

Someone is touching my feet, I note. I think I feel a bit of pain, but I don't know. A moment later, I do feel pain, in the back of my leg, where that thing is dug in. I clench my teeth tightly, gripping onto the pain and letting it pull me to consciousness a bit. I manage to open my eyes a sliver to see Donnie knelt down by my feet, a box next to him. He's looking up at me with large, dark eyes. His mouth is moving.

"Sorry," is all I can make out. He looks back down, twisting my leg slightly, placing a small flashlight back into his mouth, shining it down on my leg. It's dark, wherever we are. And I think we're moving. A vehicle? I could almost laugh. A turtle, driving? _I _can't even drive. Ain't that something?

Whatever I'm leaning against rumbles. I can't move much, but I can see the thing touching my forehead is moving. Chin. That's a chin. A green chin. A turtle talking. I can't make out what he's saying. My eyes are too heavy. They close again and to the blackness, I return.

Another second later, I open my eyes to myself being lowered onto something soft and warm. Very, very gently. I manage to clear my vision enough to see Leo. There are creases between his eyes where I'm sure if he had any, his pulling together would create that. Wait, Leo doesn't have eyebrows. Neither do his brothers. Oh dear lord, they're bald too. I wonder if they feel bad about not having hair.

In my vision, I can see my hand, slowly and shakily move toward Leo's face. His hard concentrated look morphs into one of surprise, yet he doesn't put any distance between us as I place my hand onto his jawline, lightly touching his smooth skin. He's warm. I think my hand is really cold. If it shocked him with how cold it was, he did a great job hiding it. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. He's staring down at me with intense light blue eyes. He looks very unhappy. Could it be me? Is he mad at me?

"I'm sorry, Leo," I whisper. "I'm so sorry..." I say it softly. I hope that he can hear me, or at least is better at reading lips than I am. My eyes slip closed and my hand hits my chest a second later, making me jump a bit before I'm in the darkness again. But this time, I dream.


	4. Options

**Author's Note: So so sorry about the wait! Thanks for all of your support thus far! Long chapter, yay! I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC and the story line.**

**Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a bit of language.**

**Words Count: 7,329**

I'm sitting around the dinner table. My family and I. In the years leading up to my moving out, we would all come together for the holidays. Jake and Kev still live with us, so they don't have to pay for dorm fees at college but my older siblings all moved out on their own. We all sit around the dinner table, laughing and talking like there wasn't an ounce of bad blood between us.

It's at that point that I know I'm dreaming, especially with the sunlight filtering in through the window behind me, warming my back and uncovered arms. I look down at my body to see I'm wearing a short sleeve shirt gray shirt and long, ankle length black skirt. I lean onto the table with my elbows and look around the table at the happy, smiling faces of my family. I don't think I've ever had a gathering like this were everyone was happy. Sure there was smiles and laughing but there was always something there, holding them all back. A silent resentment deep beneath the surface.

Something no one really saw, but they all felt one way or another.

We pass food around the table, laughing and cracking jokes. Julia telling us about her day. Anything she says doesn't really compute in my head, but I go through the motions of laughing and sharing, even though I'm not really saying anything. My lips are moving but nothing is registering. As soon as I notice that, I stop talking and stare around the table at my family. They all stare at me with undivided attention, and then all laugh, like I said something funny even though I've stopped talking a few moments before.

It takes me a second to realize that I'm dreaming. But as soon as I do, I pull away from it. This isn't my life, this is just a poor version of it filled with flowers and rainbows. No, the life I remember is constantly being alone, as if I was an only child. My parents had a bunch of children that were all like a bunch of strangers to each other. No, it was just me. I was the odd man out for as long as I could remember.

I couldn't hate my siblings for not knowing how to be around me. I was different. I couldn't do everything that they could do. If people saw us on the streets, they would never think that we were all siblings. Perhaps all my siblings, but not me. As per usual, I am the odd man out.

I open my eyes and immediately notice that I'm somewhere unfamiliar. Before panic can really settle in, I remember most of the events that lead me to this point. Those guys returned, and they chased me again. I had just written them off and they returned. But I managed to slip away, somehow, and when I called for the four turtle brothers... they actually came for me, as they promised they would. They didn't let me down. So this... dark, smelly place is their home...?

I sit up slowly, rubbing my head, feeling a subtle throbbing in my head. I'm on a long wrap around couch which seems to go around in a large square. A television is right in front of me. There is two worn down pillows in front of the television. I reach up and run a hand through my long, tangled hair. Combing it with my fingers, trying to tame the thick locks. Once it's easier to run my fingers through, I smooth it down and look around.

The whole room is dark except for a small light in the kitchen area. There is an island counter with a bunch of chairs pulled up, a full, functioning kitchen around it. There is no one around as far as I can tell. I look down at my lap to see that there was a red quilt draped around me. It's actually nice and warm, a little rough to the touch but it keeps me nice and warm beneath it. I lightly touch the frayed edges, looking around the wide open room, wondering what I'm suppose to do.

It appears to be a living room, kitchen, dinning room, recreation room, with a... running water sewer? Am I in the sewers? I look at a pair of steps leading up what appears to be... a subway..? I'm definitely underground. But am I in the sewers? It certainly smells like it. There is a broken spiral staircase leading up onto another floor and above the running sewer water, there appears to be some kind of really decorative wall, but my vision is too blurry to accurately make out. Damn my horrible vision.

I wrap the covers around myself and tentatively move a foot over to stand up. I stop when I spot clean white medical tape, much like the brothers wear, wrapped around my feet and more around my right calf. I twist my right ankle around a bit experimentally. There's a very dull pain on my calf but my feet are fine. Even if the entire thing, just short of my toes, are all wrapped up.

Someone must have... Donnie. Yes. He was kneeling down in front of me while we were driving back here. He was looking at my feet. He did this. I'll have to remember to thank him properly the next time that I see him.

When my feet touch the ground, I flinch at the cold concrete. I shiver by force myself to stand up. There is an even more subtle throbbing pain at the bottom of both of my feet, not as painful as the pressure on the back of my calf but still enough to be noticed. My head doesn't like the shift in elevation and begins to pound painfully. I groan, touching a cold hand to my warm forehead and walk around aimlessly. Once I realize I'm just going to have to climb over the couch to get out of the weird box I'm trapped in, I do so and stumble toward the light. The last thing I need to do is fall into the water and drowned. Or worse, get any wounds I'm sure to have on my feet infected.

God, wouldn't that be my luck?

This entire experience is kicking my ass. I'm so tired of getting my ass handed to me. I was not built for this sort of life so why is this happening to me? I lower myself into one of the chair, folding my arms onto the table and lowering my head onto them, letting my eyes droop closed again. I don't want to be alone but I'm sure as hell not going to go searching around a strange place looking for the brothers. I'll get lost, I'm sure of it. Then I'll need to get rescued again and that's just too much for me to handle. At least for right now.

I'm tired. Still, but I don't want to sleep right now. Not in this unfamiliar place. But I don't know where to go to find someone.

Just as I'm beginning to doze again, a muffled sound catches my attention. I jerk my head up and look around. I hold my breath and wait. After a few moments, I hear it again. It's some kind of muffled noise coming from within the fridge. As soon as I realize that, a horrible feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I very carefully stand up, holding the blanket around me like a cape and step closer to the fridge, hoping and praying that there isn't some sort of severed head in there. Don't do it. Don't give me any reason to doubt the legitimacy of these helpful brothers, I pray to any deity possibly listening.

I inch closer and closer until I'm right in front of it. I lean in close and press my ear against the upper freezer portion of the fridge. The muffled noise comes from within. Yes, there is definitely some sort of living creature inside there. Now that is a scary thought. My curiosity has already been peaked, there is no way around this. You know what they say? Curiosity killed the cat.

Here goes nothing.

I reach out and wrap my fingers tightly around the cold handle and pull it open. At first I didn't understand what I was looking at. Some kind of cat-like blob of ice cream staring back at me. My first thought was that there had to be some legitimate reason for keeping something like this around, even if for the life of me I'd never be able to think up what, but then the cat twisted it's head to the side and blinked at me.

I blink back at it. The cold air blowing against my face.

It blinks back at me, tilting it's head the other way.

Then I scream, it screams - or perhaps meows alarmed is the better word for it - and together we stare at each other, wide eyed, screaming at each other. I finally pry my hand from the door and stumble back, bumping into something warm and hard. I turn around and look up and am face to face with a large rat. My mouth is already hanging open in shock, but before I can breath in enough air to scream again, the turtles materialize from all corners of their home and converge on our location.

I turn ever so slowly to face the large rat, mouth hanging open. I take a step back, trying to put a respectful amount of distance between us. I blink rapidly, trying to understand. Yes, he is a giant rat, taller than the giant turtles, wearing a rob and standing upright with better posture than even me. Dear lord, this entire thing is getting way too weird.

"Don't scream!" Donnie says, appearing at my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Taylor, this is our father and sensei, Master Splinter. Master Splinter, this is our new friend Taylor Rowan." He sweeps his hand in-between us, trying to be a mediator.

I blink a few more times, staring up at the large rat, _Master Splinter. _Their dad. Four turtle brothers with a rat father. See, I don't know much about turtles, and even less about rats, but I don't think that's biologically correct. But like last time; who am I to judge the strange or slightly abnormal. Leo and Raph both share a look from the opposite side of the table before looking over at their dad with wide eyes.

"Yes, sensei, this is Taylor," Mickey says, sliding up easily next his dad, looking up at him with big blue eyes. Splinter pulls his eyes, keenly studying me, to look down at his youngest son, waiting for him to continue. "There is a bunch of creepy people following her around. They even chased her outside until she passed out, sensei. We had to bring her here. She's sensitive to moon light-"

"Sunlight," Donnie cuts in as if he couldn't help himself.

"Sunlight," Mickey amends, smiling up at his dad. "Please, let us look after her! We can't just leave her high and dry! That's too cruel!"

Mouth hung open, I look between Mickey and Splinter as the rat brings up his hand - paw? - and strokes his thin beard, looking thoughtfully down at me. After a moment of debate he gestures for me to sit at the table. After a whole minute of not moving, just staring at him like I couldn't understand even the simplest hand gestures, Donnie takes my arm gently and helps me to the table. I sit down and wrap my borrowed blanket tighter around myself, feeling like I'm in some kind of strange dream.

"I'm surprised you're even awake," Donnie says, sitting next to me. "They hit you with a tranquilizer. I can't believe you're already up."

I look over at him slowly, just staring, mouth still awkwardly hanging open. My jaw is starting to hurt.

"Is she okay?" Raph asks, lowering himself in his seat next to Leo, across from Donnie. "She's got a weird look on her face and it's kind of freaking me out a little bit."

"Seriously," Mickey says, waving his hand around in front of my face. My eyes follow the movement.

Splinter sits down slowly between Leo and Mickey, who's to my left, tugging softly on his beard and narrowing his eyes. "Could it be the affects of the tranquilizer? Do you know, Donatello?"

I feel three gentle fingers cup my chin and turn me toward Donnie, he's studying me carefully with big brown eyes. He closes my mouth for me and hums, muttering something under his breath. He tilts my head toward the light and looks into my eyes intently. "How do you feel, Taylor? A little dazed, I would assume. I don't think the effects of the dart has all worn off yet. Do you feel out of it?"

Now that was an understatement. I felt really out of it, like I was half hanging out of my own body, holding onto myself with just the tips of my fingers. I'm not sure how long I've been sitting there, looking around the room with a blank face, blinking slowly. At some point, Donnie finally released my chin and rested his arm on the table next to me. I kind of noticed but I had to wonder if this is what it feels like to be drunk. To be there, be aware of yourself, but not really being able to control any of it. Man, that cat really scared something loose in my head.

I stop, my gaze on Splinter, who's staring at me a bit worried, like they weren't accustom to people being completely out of it like I was for however long I've been out of it. "I'm sorry," I hear myself says. He tilts his head slightly. That probably wasn't what he expected me to say. I didn't either, to be truthful. "I'm sorry for screaming at you. Oh, and your cat."

"It's alright," Splinter says, watching me with a mixed look of caution and curiosity. I take this moment to glance back over my shoulder at the fridge. The door is closed again, but I hear a soft meow from inside.

"Let's be honest," Raph says, pulling my attention back to the table, "it's just the cat you screamed at. You just stared at sensei with a stupid look on your face." Leo glares at him.

"Nice, Raph," he grumbles.

"Are you feeling a little more lucid now?" Splinter asks, resting his hands neatly on the table in front of him.

I nod slowly. "I... don't really know. I feel like I'm not entirely here. Like... this all isn't real..." I squint at him slowly. "Is that a bad thing to say? Sorry, if it is. I usually have some form of tact... you've just caught me on a bad day... Master Splinter..." I say his name and it sounds weird on my tongue.

"It's alright," Splinter says, waving my apology away. "What can you tell me about your situation?"

I feel my shoulders slump a little bit. "I'm not really sure. I'm normal for the most part other than..." I gesture to myself as if it weren't completely obvious, though Master Splinter's eyes follow the motion and actually study me, as if he hadn't noticed before, which is actually a surprise.

"...other than...?" Master Splinter prompted. "Other than what? What is abnormal about you?"

It takes me a second before I answer him to consider if he's making fun of me or not. I can't claim to know the man, or rat, but he doesn't strike me as the type of person to try and make a joke out of people's appearances. But when he just continued to stare back at me with calm, nonjudgmental eyes, I figured he wanted a real answer.

"I'm albino," I tell him, hoping it didn't come off as snobbish.

If it did, Master Splinter had no outward change to that. "I thought you were Taylor," he says lightly.

"No-" I stop, not seeing where he's trying to go with this. "No, I _am_ Taylor, I have albinism." The four brothers stare on mutely, as if they too didn't know were this was going but suspected something.

"So?" Splinter says simply, staring at me as if he was trying to make a point that was going right over my head. After a few moments of me just staring at him with, what I'm sure was a stupid look on my face, he adds, "I have a tail."

My eyebrows pull together. "Yeah...?" I say, not knowing how to respond to that.

Splinter reaches up and tugs lightly on his beard closing his eyes. "I have a tail and you have albinism. Those are merely pieces of us, not us. We are still Splinter and Taylor. There is more to us that is outside those two traits. My sons have shells on their backs but that doesn't define them. Leonardo is smart and cunning and a great leader. Raphael is hot blooded, but loving and dedicated to those he loves. Donatello is smart and kind and loves unconditionally. And Michelangelo is goofy and courageous and only wants to see those he loves happy. Do you not see? Those are merely pieces of who they are. Both physical and personality wise, but not even the few things I mentioned can truly tell you who they are as people. They are ninja, but they are also brothers. Being a brother doesn't define them, no more than being a ninja does. Think about that sometime. You will intrigued to know that there is more to others than you may have originally perceived. And that even goes for yourself."

He drops his hand and opens his eyes, nodding down at me. All I could do was stare at him, mind whirling. I don't know much about Japanese culture, but if I had to envision a true master of the martial arts, wise, unshakable, etc. Master Splinter would be right on the dot. He really did just offer me a gem of knowledge I thought was only given to people in movies and books. Now I really feel like this isn't real.

"Now then," Splinter says, "tell me about your situation. About these people that my sons saved you from."

Still a little taken aback by this new-found point-of-view, I falter a moment, trying to recall my story. "So... um, oh yeah, I was walking home from work, I'm a waitress at a diner, and I came across this group of like a dozen guys. One of them had a cellphone I think and he looked down at it, and said that I was the one they were looking for. I ran for my life, ended up roof hopping until I spotted a man and a woman walking down an alley between two buildings. They were the brothers' friends. April and... uh..." I squint trying to recall his name.

"Casey," Leo offers. I nod, jerking my chin over to Leo, wrapping the blanket around myself a bit more, swinging my feet a bit under the table.

"Yeah, and I called out for help and they responded. I had to jump to the next building," I continue, flinching, remembering how I half landed on the roof, half not. I still have the nasty discoloration. It's fading, though. "So I make it to a different roof and keep running, these guys persistently following me, and they almost corner me and I manage to hit one of them in the temple with a wrench that was left up on the roof."

"Ouch," Donnie says, cringing a bit as if he was the one struck. Raph laughs, looking pleased.

Mickey laughs too, patting me on the back and giving me two thumbs up. "You go, girl!"

I smile a bit at Mickey, relieved that he's next to me. As weird and slightly thoughtless as he can be, he also works as a sort of comforting calming agent. Yes, I definitely like Mickey. "Thanks. Well, anyway, I expertly topple off the roof and well, that's when you guys came in," I say, looking over at Leo and smile faintly, starting to feel a little more like myself. Now I'm just tired. "Nice catch, by the way."

Leo smiles, looking away. "It was nothing. Just ninja training at it's finest."

"I went home after I met April and talked with Donnie and Mickey and I didn't see those guys again for a while. And just... last night...? I think. I couldn't sleep so I tossed and turned all night last night and early in the morning, before the sun came up, I stepped out into my fire escape to watch the sun rise..." I smile faintly, remembering the sight. "I haven't seen one in a long time..." I shake my head and blink out of the memory. "Uh, sorry, anyway, as I was about to head back inside, I noticed that my front door was opening up. I ran and now I'm here."

Splinter closed his eyes half way through, nodding slowly. He hums quietly to himself, organizing his thoughts. "And there is no sort of indication as to what they could have been after?"

I shake my head. "No... not really." I poke a hand out from under the blanket and push some long white strands from in front of my eyes. I tuck them behind my ears before I hide my hands beneath the blankets again for warmth. We sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of the rushing water. It's not too loud, if anything, it's soothing. I've already gotten used to the smell and except for the unforgiving cold around me, this place is actually really nice. It's comfortable. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm underground, and ultimately beneath my problems, or if it's the four brothers, but I feel good. I feel safe. Safe enough that I'm getting tired again.

"Hey Donnie," I say, turning to the purple masked turtle. "I'm feeling tired again. Is that bad? You said something about the..." I trail off, actually taking a moment to think about what I'm going to say. The anger runs hot in me as I narrow my eyes, "...they _tranq'd _me? What kind of assholes tranq a little girl? What did I do to them?"

I look around the room but no one seems to have an answer for me. I groan and lower my head onto the table, feeling tired again as the anger drains from me. Donnie rubs my back comfortingly. I finally sit back up and look around the table. Everyone lost in their own thoughts.

"Interesting..." Splinter says, drumming his long nails against the table. "Any theories, my sons?"

"If it's physically Taylor that they are after, perhaps it has something to do with her family. Can you think of anything about them?" Leo asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "I guess you could say my family has money but we aren't like super rich. My dad and eldest brother are both medical researchers. So, it's like we are living in the rich side of poverty because of college for most of the kids and buying homes and cars and a private tutor for me because my parents, mostly my mom, are crazy worried for me. So on the outside we are wealthy enough, but we never lived in laps of luxury. We lived contently." I grab a piece of hair and twist it around between my fingers.

"The point is," Donnie says, shaking his head, "we don't have a lot to go on about these guys. We have to learn more about them." There is murmurs of agreement around the counter.

"Hey guys!" A girl calls out. The family of five all perk up at the sound of her voice. "Hello? Where are- oh, here you guys are!" April rounds the corner, long red ponytail bouncing behind her as she walks closer only to freeze at the sight of me. She blinks rapidly as if she was wondering if she was really seeing me. After a long moment, her eyebrows pull together in worry. "Uh oh, what's wrong? Did something happened?"

"Hey, April," Leo says, turning around slightly. "Come sit, we'll fill you in."

April lowers herself between Donnie and Raph, at the end of the table, opposite of Splinter. She's wearing a long sleeve thin, see through, white shirt hanging off her shoulders with black tank top under it and jeans with ripped knees, a simple belt and sneakers. She's got in simple small hoop earrings and a plain black hooded sweatshirt tied around her waist. She smiles a bit at everyone around the table before her blue eyes land on me.

"Are you alright, Taylor?" she asks, eyebrows pulling together a bit more. "The guys are usually very careful on bringing people down here... sorta." She smiles at Donnie, reaching over and placing her hand over his, patting it. He smiles back at her.

"I'm okay," I tell her, shifting in the seat, pulling my legs up to tent them in the blanket too. "A little shaken and tired, but okay, thanks to them." I poke my hand out to make a gesture around the table.

"Yeah," April says smiling, her bright blue eyes seem far away as if recalling a fond memory. "They do that a lot. The right thing." She laughs, as if remember something else before shaking her head and focusing on me. "Now then, to what do we owe the honor...? Has something happened?"

I shrug my shoulders, pulling my legs closer to my torso, hoping to warm them a bit quicker. "Those guys broke into my house. I don't know when that was anymore because I... uh, passed out," for some reason that makes me feel a bit flustered. Like a true damsel in distress. "...but before then, I managed to get away. And the guys came and got me-" I gaps, feeling around myself realizing I didn't have any pockets. "The shellphone!"

"It's okay!" Leo says calmly, holding a hand up to stop my ensuing panic. "We found it. Donnie had it."

I look over at the purple masked turtle confused. "I was making sure it was still functioning. Prolonged exposure to the cold and there was a little bit of blood on it. I didn't want to let you keep something faulty," Donnie says, reaching up and scratching his throat. "It's in the lab if you want it back. I've already got it all cleaned up and thankfully there was nothing damaged." He smiles. "Sorry to worry you."

I relax a bit, sinking back into the chair. I let out a long sigh of relief. "That would have been really horrible of me. Loosing something that wasn't even mine-" My mind immediately conjures up the image of the flash drive. In my mind's eye, I can see it, half hanging out of my regular jacket pocket that I threw on the couch the night before. "Damn," I mumble. "Andrew's flash drive." Those assholes better not have robbed me. God, could this get any worse? No, please, don't take that as a challenge.

"'Andrew'?" Leo says, blinking. "Who's that?"

"Did you say something about a flash drive?" Donnie asks. Leo gives him a look that is promptly ignored.

"Yeah," I mumble, "I had a flash drive from this guy that left it in the diner I work at. I left it in my coat pocket on the couch. It's one thing if they rob my blind, which trust me, isn't what I want, but that's not mine, I have to give it back to him," I groan, cursing my bad luck again. Why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong?

"Who's Andrew?" Leo asks again. Raph gives him a side-long glance then rolls his green eyes.

"Do you want us to go get it for you?" Donnie asks.

I look over at him, surprised, wondering if I heard him right. They've already helped me out so much, and yet they are still willing to help me out again? April wasn't kidding. They really are good guys. Looking around the room, everyone nodding in agreement, except for Splinter; his eyes are closed and he's gently stroking his beard, humming under his breath.

"How long have I been out? Did I already ask that?" I ask.

"It's only been a few hours. Two and a half hours, I think," Donnie says. "Not nearly long enough to sleep off the effects of that tranquilizer, which I'm still surprised you're up and about. Actually, to be honest, I'm worried. How do you feel?" He leans in, looking into my eyes again. "You look really pale. Maybe you should lay down, now."

"I'm okay... I guess... I mean, I'm tired. I just..." I shrug my shoulders, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

"Oh," April says, standing up and pulling the sweater from around her waist. "I'm sorry. Here, it's kind of cold down in the sewers. Especially as it gets closer to the winter time. Take my sweater, it's clean." She hands it over to me. I accept it slowly, feeling the soft fabric beneath the pads of my fingers. It smells good, like perfume.

"Thank you..." I murmur, letting the blanket pool around my waist as I slide my arms through the sweater.

"Who's Andrew?" Leo asks again.

"Leo, man, let it go," Raph says, shaking his head.

"Dude, Taylor! It's freezing out there! What are you doing wearing a t-shirt and shorts? Are you crazy?" April asks, eyes wide. She lays her hands down onto the counter top to look down at me, displeased, as I lower my legs back down so I don't fall.

I pull the sweater over my head and am practically swimming in it. It has to be big on April too. But it's really soft and warm inside. I let out a long sigh of relief, wrapping the blankets more securely around my legs and pull my hair out from beneath the hoodie. Once I'm settled back into place, I turn my attention back to April. "Yeah, I had just gotten up... this morning, I suppose. I didn't have time to change into more appropriate clothes..."

"Sorry," April says, rubbing her forehead as she lowers back into her seat. "God, where is my bedside manner?"

"By the bedside?" Mickey guesses, innocently.

April smiles at him. "No, Mickey. That was rhetorical. It didn't require an answer. But thank you, though." Then she looks at me. "I'm sorry. Is there anything that I can do to help?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. I've never dealt with this before. I'm a lot out of my element."

"For now," Splinter says, standing up and folding his arms behind himself, straightening his posture, "we shall let you rest, Taylor. There is very little that can be done while we have so little information. Was there something that you needed, April?" He turns his attention to the red haired girl.

April looks surprised for a moment before she remembers. "Yes, sensei, I wanted to talk to you about something in private."

Splinter tilts his head slightly. "Oh? Then let us go talk. Rest, Taylor. We will discuss more when you are feeling better. My sons, April, be ever vigilant."

The four brothers and the red head nod, straightening up their posture as well, looking determined. "Hai, sensei!"

Hi? I know I must have a silly look on my face, but that all just sounded really weird to me. He looked ready to leave, but they say hi? I am so lost. This is what I get for not investing time into other cultures. Like... whatever the hell they are saying. Sensei is Japanese, right? Someone is going to have to sit me down and give me the basic vocabulary so I'm not so out of it.

Wait. What am I thinking? These people... as wonderful as they are... we aren't part of the same world. Not even April and I are part of the same world. She looks like she could do anything she sets her mind to and is kind and friendly. Just looking at her right now... she's so beautiful and charming and she just seems to fit. I remember watching over my sisters' shoulders while they watched movies about high school girls. That the really beautiful ones were always so mean and nasty and the wonderful things about them were all so superficial. That their outer beauty was cloaking the nasty creature within.

But looking at April, I don't get that impression at all. She just seems so genuine. Laughing and smiling with the other guys. As Splinter left, she stood up to follow only to be stopped by Raph, who was asking her about someone. She told him about this person - I wasn't really listening - then laughed again and reached out to pat his shoulder in a very friendly manner before turning and following after Splinter.

I don't know how long I was staring after April, not really seeing anything anymore before Mickey's face, inches from mine, brings me back. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm really tired. Maybe I'm having some kind of panic attack. Perhaps it's as simple as I have a weak resolve, but whatever the reason is, I barely have enough time to process the inquisitive look on Mickey's face before I burst into tears.

Mickey jerks back, as if I reached out and struck him. "Uh, what?" He yelps. "What happened?"

"Mickey!" The three other brothers chorus.

"I didn't do anything!" Mickey says, defensively, leaning back a little bit further as if any of his brothers were going to actually strike him. "She just started to cry! I didn't touch her, I swear!" He holds his hands up in surrender.

"It's not him," I say, voice gravelly. I sound so horrible. "It's me. I'm so mad at myself and everything else! That tiny apartment was everything I had. It's was all of my accomplishments rolled up into one. I worked so hard to get where I am today and now look? What have I to show for it? Everything I own is either stolen, broken or unsafe now!" I pull roughly at my scalp, making sure not to pull any hair out. "I was so naïve to think that I could make it on my own," I continue bitterly, furiously wiping away my tears. "Everyone was right. I can't do this."

"Taylor," Leo starts but I don't want to give up on my pity party just yet.

"I have nothing now. Who knows what they've done to my place or my things? Nothing's really safe anymore. God, that was... that was everything I had. All my money and clothes and..." I wave my hands around, not able to find the words. "Without clothes and sunblock, I can't go outside. I can't go to my job and get money to get more! No one will ever believe four large turtles have saved my butt twice now..." I wipe my face again. My head is starting to hurt. "My family was right, there is nothing for me out here. I obviously can't do it. It was stupid of me to try. God, why didn't I listen? If I had listened-"

"That's enough!" Leo says firmly, having stood up and walked around the table to my side, literally picking up my chair and spinning it around to face him. He leans close, eyes like white-blue flames. "Taylor, listen to me. Are you listening?"

I nod mutely, eyes wide. My hands cover my mouth and nose and I take slow bated breaths, not wanting to make a sound for fear of riling the blue masked turtle more.

"Life is hard, I get it. We're turtles for crying out loud! And you're right, no one in their right mind would believe you because we are so outrageous of an idea. But we still exist. We still survive. And I get that this is hard for you, losing everything in one night, but you have to realize, those are just material possessions. You don't need those things to survive," Leo says.

"Actually," Donnie cuts in hesitantly, "she does need the sunblock if she ever plans on going outside during the day for any lengthy amount of time."

"I don't think now is the time, Donnie," Raph says, shaking his head when the purpled masked turtle opened his mouth to respond.

"Look," Leo continues, "the point is, that those things can be replaced. But your life can't. They would have taken you in your sleep and did who knows what with you. I know it's hard right now, to lose so much, but you can still make good from this. And you aren't alone," his voice and face soften. "Taylor, we didn't come help you just to throw you to the curb. We help people out to the end. So long as your life is in danger, we will continue to help you out and look after you. You don't have to worry so much."

"I know..." I say softly after a few seconds of silence, "I just... it's hard, you know? It's one thing to choose this life. To choose to fight the bad guys and be do-gooders. But it's entirely different to have the life thrust upon you. When you want nothing more than to be..." I wave my hand around, trying to find the word, but I can't. "To just... not be me. Not have to be chased around the city by some weirdos for any rhyme or reason you can think of." My shoulders slump and I lower my gaze to my lap, sniffling loudly. I wipe my face again. "I don't want to seem ungrateful for all you guys have done for me... but you really have no reason to help me, like, at all. I know you say that you help to the end, but when does the charity end? When does enough become enough?"

"She's right, Leo," Raph cuts in when Leo opened his mouth to respond. I look over my shoulder at the red masked brother.

"What do you mean, bro?" Mickey asks.

"When does helping someone out go too far?" Raph asks, green eyes hard. "At what point is it too much for us to continue to handle? It's one thing with the Kraang and Shredder, those were issues we'd have to see through. Even the Purple Dragons, should they fall onto our radars again. But this is one person we are dedicating our lives to. I know you like her, Fearless, and I'm not saying we don't help her, but is there really anything we can do at this point, other than hide her and hope that whatever is happening blows over?"

Leo narrows his eyes. "What are you saying, Raphael? That so long as it involves the general populous we do something and not care about the individual targets?"

"No," Raph snaps, eyes narrowing dangerously. "That's not what I'm saying at all. What I'm saying is that there are other people out there with problems that can be handled right now. Muggings, raping, arson. How long do we follow a hot-cold-hot-cold trail like this before we'd dedicated too much time with no results? It's been two weeks and we know nothing more than what we knew the first time we saw them."

"Wait a second," Donnie says, standing up slowly. The red masked turtle and the blue masked turtle both stare at each other with narrowed eyes. I suddenly don't feel safe being place between them. "Leo, Raph, listen," Donnie continues, "maybe there is a way that we can do both. Monitor Taylor and keep her safe, while still trying to help others without spreading ourselves too thin."

"Yeah!" Mickey says, standing up too. "We could ask April and Casey to help! They could chill out with Tay during the day and we could look after her whenever we can at night. You know, during the slow times." He smiles, pleased with himself.

"Exactly," Donnie says, "you know they'll agree to help. And Raph, I know what you're saying, but this could end up involving the masses. When the Kraang first tried to kidnap April, if we didn't step in and help, things would have been a lot different, yes?" He looks between the two feuding brothers with a knowing look.

After a long moment of Raph and Leo staring at each other, Raph finally looks away. His attention lowers to me.

"Listen, it's not that I don't think we should help you, I do, and I'm willing to keep helping, but you made a very valid point. Who knows what we are going up against? If it's something really bad, well than, yeah, we should get involved. If it puts an innocent person's life in danger, but at some point, there has to be something that not even we can handle. Do you understand?" Raph asks, voice not as rough as before.

I nod. "There is another option..." I say lightly, looking back up at Leo and trying to smile. "I could just head back home to my parents. They'll know what to do. I don't know what those guys want, but whatever it is, I'm sure they'll be more hesitant to come after me there."

Leo shakes his head. "Not necessarily. That could just be putting them in danger as well. They were planning on breaking into your home in broad daylight. Something tells me, whichever home it is means nothing to them."

I open my mouth, about to refute with... I don't know. The words don't come to me, because Leo is right. Whoever they are, whatever they want, they aren't so easily dissuaded. Somehow, going home would just end up proving my family to be right. I would truly be nothing but misfortune for them.


End file.
